


Stones In A Glasshouse

by Seruna



Series: Universe: The Living World [1]
Category: Guild Wars 2 (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Personal story, Plot, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2018-01-10
Packaged: 2019-02-13 03:06:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 115,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12974493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seruna/pseuds/Seruna
Summary: Sgileas is a necromancer who dreams of Orr, Zhaitan and his idol, Trahearne. His abilities and prowess impress everyone - except the one who really matters. In a world full of inferiority, weakness and infirmity, he realizes it is not just about the strong beating the weak - it's about leaving a mark, and to be the guiding light in an already dark world.





	1. Awakening

**Author's Note:**

> Holla!  
> I have wanted to write a Trahearne fanfiction for even longer than the whole ShadexCanach took over my brain. Do not worry, I will be working on both fronts, because both are incredibly fun. And cause with the LS: Daybreak, new stuff is going on. Yaaay! So stay tuned.  
> Do enjoy!

Sgileas sat on the small green island in the glade, listened to the platter of the water in the background. It was calm, serene, yet he found his fingers and hand twitching, itching for some action.

He had the feeling he had learned all that he could, that the Dream had barely anything left to offer and yet he remained here, body and spirit trapped in it as though there was a lesson he had yet to learn and understand.

His most plausible guess had been that it was his patience. It was not such a far shot – the other Dreamers called him hot-headed, short-sighted, leaping where he had not looked. Hasty, tongue-in-cheek, taking nothing seriously. Arrogant. Then again, Sgileas thought to himself, arrogance was just a word used by people who were envious of his superiority.

“Hey, Sgileas!”, a voice called and he bit the inside of his cheek in frustration. What about his posture – cross-legged, eyes closed, forehead frowned in concentration – made anyone with at least half his intelligence believe this was a good time to interrupt him? That he was up for _chit chat_? 

“Not now.”, he growled. “I am _thinking_.” The ' _you should try it sometime'_ , was left unsaid, but his tone implied it.

“Think later!”, the voice came closer and he heard the water splashing as someone rushed through the knee-height water toward him. He finally opened his eyes in annoyance when he noticed the dark sky hanging in the distance, covering everything in a waning light. “Something's wrong!”

The sylvari ran over to him, but Sgileas was already on his feet and nearly knocked the sylvari away when he rushed past. The sylvari stumbled and caught his balance, gave Sgileas a perplexed look.

“Are you going to investigate?”, the sylvari asked fearfully and Sgileas held his staff, leaned against it slightly when he turned his head.

“Of course I am.”, he grinned. “This is my call.”

  
  


Something had entered the dream, he could feel it. A dark permeating presence that lingered in the air, something dark and foreboding. A nightmare hound had tried to sink its teeth into his arm and with a motion of his staff he had sapped its essence, its very soul from it meekly body, adding it to his collection of life force.

It felt foul and evil, grotesque even to its very core. With a frown he tried to discern the feeling when a voice broke through from a patch of vines that had grown and covered the bridge in front of him and with it, the way forward. “Help me! I don't understand what's happening!” a male sylvari burst forward and nearly bumped into Sgileas who held out his hand and stopped the sylvari in his tracks.

“Stop squeaking!”, Sgileas snapped. “Stand and fight. The Nightmare approaches.”

The sylvari grew wide, huge eyes. “I can't.”, he whimpered. “I am too young. I am too afraid.”

“Then stand aside.”, Sgileas growled and the sylvari ran past him with a squeak. Why were the other Dreamers so immature and weak?

With a motion of his staff he cut through the vines with a dark, sharp blade that he could summon at will. It was a force he had grown quite used and accustomed to, a force that was entirely his own. At least here. He had seen only one other like him, one very interesting party that inspired and intrigued him.

The First-born, Trahearne. A necromancer just like him, accepting the path of darkness without falling to the Nightmare.

There was a wisp in the air, glowing brightly and then slowly it stretched into the form of a ghost, a fellow sylvari, female and suddenly Sgileas recognized the First-born Caithe, standing in the middle of the Dream, her eyes turning toward him.

“You there, Sapling!”, she called and Sgileas approached her nonchalantly, felt almost insulted when she called him that. He was young, yes, but that mattered only very little. “The Dream is in great jeopardy.”

“I've noticed.”, Sgileas replied dryly and rested against his staff once more. “The hounds are poisoned by the Nightmare.”

“You are aware.”, Caithe noticed and looked clearly surprised and partially stunned. “The source of the corruption is the Nightmare Court. We have to cleanse it before its too late.”

“Then a little less chatter, perhaps?”, Sgileas shrugged and made his way toward the vine bridge that would lead him right beneath the approaching darkness. Surely where its center was, there would be the source of the corruption.

“It is dangerous to charge head in.”, Caithe argued, much to Sgileas dismay. Her spirit followed him. “There is a great darkness ahead.”

“The darkness doesn't scare me.”, Sgileas informed her. As it stood, darkness was his friend. His sole friend.

“More hounds!”, she called and Sgileas head turned. Hounds pounced from the bent ahead toward him, sharp teeth bared and barking at him loudly. He raised his hand – all a single a motion – and the hounds suddenly rooted in fear, cowered and flattened their ears. With a swish of his arm a dark blade cut through them and even though their forms looked real, they were nothing but shells. Their essence rose toward him and their bodies disappeared into a spray of dust that scattered into the air.

Without consulting Caithe once more he strode onward, staff gripped tightly. The darkness of the clouds overhead enveloped him and he felt the ground shudder beneath his feet. There was a large clearing ahead that looked gray and bare, stark in the looming darkness.

A creature of tangled branches, roots, vines and branches erected itself from the ground, bursting and spreading pieces of earth as it rose. Yellow, dark eyes gleamed and Sgileas noticed how large it was, that it was looming far over their heads.

The eyes turned toward him, fixated him. Behind him he felt Caithe suddenly brush past and for a second he was confused – had she not been transparent as a ghost just a few seconds before? As though she read his mind she pulled her daggers, “The Pale Tree breathed her strength into me. She's made me tangible – but only for a few moments. We must end this corruption.”

Sgileas looked dumbly at her before he caught himself. There were a few things he did not know after all. “One breath for another.”, Sgileas answered and gripped his staff tighter.

The nightmare squared its shoulders, lowering its head toward the ground like a cat before a pounce. It growled loudly and resembled a dragon, its large, branch-entwined wings spreading toward the sides, casting an even larger shadow over them.

“Careful!”; Caithe warned as he approached. “It's breath might poison you.”

“It can try.”, Sgileas answered curtly. He was tired of her constant talk – he knew her, from the memories he had access to in the Dream, yet none of it had shown how very slow and quite frustrating it was to listen to her demur.

He wanted to get this over with – perhaps then, finally, he would be granted access to reality. The Shadow of the Dragon stomped down with its large legs, making the earth quiver and tremble when it landed and Sgileas moved nimbly beneath it and unleashed the life force he had collected.

It filled him with cool, chilling him deliciously to the bone and a smirk curled at his lips. His figure was covered in shadow, his staff engulf in dark wisps that lashed around in the air. A dark blade sat atop his staff, curved and sharp, despite the shade that surrounded it giving it a complete harmless impression.

He swung the scythe, cut along the Shadow of the Dragon's legs, heard the creature cry in frustration over his head. The life force drained from him with every strike and he dodged a kick from the Dragon's front leg, lifted his scythe high into the air and embedded the blade deep into the creatures belly.

A loud wail rang in his ears and he felt the soul rupturing and ripping from the body, its essence lifting into the air for only his eyes to see. It drifted, fought with the pull but he lifted his hand and drew it in.

Like a moon orbiting a sun it spun around him and slowly circled closer until it rested in his palm and he smirked at the powerful pulse in his hand. It felt different than the rest, more powerful, more agile, languid, dark. It reminded him of branches scratching over bark, of humid air and the pressure of anxiety.

With a flick it resisted one last feeble time before it sunk into him and he closed his eyes, let the power flow through him and smiled.

There was a strange sound in his ear and he listened. Distant, like a drum far, far away. It grew louder and louder until he heard its rhythm.

_Thump. Da-thump. Thump. Da-thump._

And then he realized it was the sound of his own heart-beat. He felt warm and then, suddenly, something moved around him and when he opened his eyes he noticed a strange, eerie blue glow around him.

It moved around him and before panic could set in his feet found cold, steady ground and the prison that had been the blue fruit beneath the pale tree's bough lifted around him, revealing the true world, reality.

And he erected himself and breathed in air with a wide grin.

 


	2. The Earthed Knight

The sylvari that greeted him first smiled at him kindly. “Welcome, Sapling. You have woken from the Dream.”

Did everyone, even here, feel the necessity to explain even the most obvious of occurrences? “What Cycle is this?”, Sgileas wondered, tried to find traces of sunlight.

“The Cycle of Dusk.”, the sylvari informed him. “Firstborn Kahedis and Trahearne awakened during this cycle.”

 _I am well aware,_ Sgileas thought, but kept his mouth shut. In the Dream many sylvari had told him that his arrogance and nonchalance was hurtful to many, and perhaps this was a chance to start anew, if the thoughts could be kept from spilling from his mouth.

He cared very little if he offended others, if he was honest. It rarely was his intention, because if he did, he would hardly do so with what others called arrogance and subtelty. Was it not them instead who were too weak, too soft? Why was it his fault, anyway?

His eyes trailed toward the distant horizon and he watched the waning daylight as it sparkled over the ferns and trees in the distance. There was a calling, a compelling feeling in his chest that urged him to act soon.

The Shadow of the Dragon had been but a simple taste of a foe that lay before him yet. The poison, the darkness, the foulness and evil in the air. His very gift, to sap life from others, to take their essence and use it, it all reflected what was his Wyld Hunt.

A hunt, indeed. For dragons. For Zhaitan.

The name resounded inside him, a nature not entirely unlike his own. Yet he felt he had to kill it, take it down under all circumstances. The Dream had revealed very little of the Elder Dragon's, merely that they were beings inherent to the world that they now shared.

A force to be reckoned with, that they were not to be underestimated. As far as he knew Zhaitan ruled over what remained of the accursed land of Orr, the former land of the human gods.

“I have to find passage to Orr.”, Sgileas said and the sylvari gave him a dumbfounded look.

“Orr? Why on Tyria would you want to go there?”

“My Wyld Hunt calls.”, Sgileas answered.

“A Wyld Hunt?”, the sylvari breathed in awe. “So soon?” Was it soon? Sgileas did not know. “I would suggest you speak with Caithe before you head anywhere. She left this for you.”

A small parchment, rolled and bound with a thin vine. Sgileas took it and opened it, read its contents. Of course he remembered her – she had been there with him what felt for him like barely half an hour ago. When he read about the Green Knight his interest piqued once more.

It had been a vision in his Dream, one that engulfed the other half of him. Both callings tore at one another, one half wishing to book passage to Orr, the other to find the Green Knight. And perhaps the sylvari was right. Speaking to Caithe might actually help. A little.

“And...here.”, the sylvari gave him a robe from ferns. “Perhaps you should not start your Wyld Hunt naked.”

On that, at least, Sgileas agreed.

  


He sought Caithe and thankfully the sylvari female was not intend on keeping her presence hidden. She was inside the Dreamer's terrace and greeted him with a smile.

“Young Valiant.”, she noted. “I thought we might see each other again.”

“First-born Caithe.”, Sgileas greeted her as her honor as being first demanded, yet from what Sgileas knew her only and receding accomplishment had been being part of Destiny's Edge. “At least this time there is no poison or dragon that breathes in our necks.”

Caithe chuckled. “These are better circumstances indeed. Not perfect, by far. In your Dream I saw a fighter, a warrior, a green knight and the vision has intrigued me. What can you tell me about him?”

“It was a champion in brilliant green armor who defeated all challenges. He seemed invincible, yet a small mouse nipped at his heel.” Sgileas was quite certain he was supposed to be that mouse, an animal small and undetected, an enemy that could approach undetected and remained underestimated – yet the image was quite unbefitting for him.

“Kahedis.”, Caithe called and the first-born approached with a curious glance at Sgileas. “You are born of Dusk as this Valiant. Can you interpret this vision? I see both literal and symbolic images here.”

“I'll try.”, Kahedis offered and gave Sgileas a searching look. “When you saw this champion, did you feel frightened? Angry? Did-”

The first-born never got to finish and a voice cut through, “Help! Somebody help me!” They all rushed toward the yelling sylvari, saw a young male who looked helpless and lost. “The brute is killing my beloved!”, he called and pointed to somewhere behind him.

“Where?”, Sgileas asked and the sylvari ran forward. They followed him and sure enough, just a passage away a sylvari in green armor stood over another sylvari, broad and dangerous. The sylvari at his feet looked badly tattered, clutching an injury on his stomach from which sap flowed freely toward the green forest floor.

The sylvari that had come crying for help stepped froward, “Please, Enough!”, he begged. “Victory is yours! Just let him live!”

“Live?”, the green armored sylvari echoed with a sneer. “Ha! The sapling accepted my challenge and failed. His life is forfeit.”

“Please, Dagdar.”, the sylvari that lay on his back said, eyes glancing up toward him. “Go, and leave me. He will kill you, too, if you stay.”

“You are a monster, Bercilak. I won't let you do this! I won't live without my beloved.”

“So be it.”, Bercilak grinned. “As Ventrari teaches, 'Hard ground makes stronger roots.' ”

“I'll teach you how hard the ground can feel – once you are earthed in it.”, Sgileas threatened and the knight's eyes followed him, humor gleaming in them.

“I have searched far and wide for an individual strong and powerful enough to best me. I doubt you are it. But let us find out, shall we?”

The knight lifted his sword and with a cry charged forward to where Sgileas stood. With a lithe movement he turned away, stepped around the warrior with ease and made him stumble over his stretched leg.

The knight fell toward the ground with a huff and Sgileas made a motion with his hand, drew the life from the sylvari that lay before him. He felt the life force draining, flowing toward him eagerly as though fleeing the body it actually belonged to. The knight made a startled noise and chocked, legs and arms beginning to tremble as he attempted to push himself up.

His body quaked and then he succumbed and fell toward the ground. Sgileas drew more and more, noticed the dark, cold quality of it, something poisonous and stinging. It felt like it had in the Dream, permeating, tempting. “How does the ground feel, _knight_?”, Sgileas asked haughtily.

He connection broke with a snap only he could hear and feel. Bercilak tried one last time to breathe in air and then succumbed to the green floor with no wound to tell of his demise. The body was nothing but a husk, Sgileas knew. The essence flew around his hand, his wrist in a green light. Why were they green, he wondered. Like grass, like leafs, like life.

“You are so strong.”, the sylvari who had asked for help said with wide, amazed eyes. “Thank you for saving my beloved.”

“Why were you fighting this brute?”, Sgileas asked sharply. “He could have killed both of you.”

“I couldn't leave Eladus!”, the sylvari insisted and knelt beside his beloved, helped the sylvari up from the ground. “We dreamed of one another. To be in a world without Eladus would have hurt worse than death.”

“You should have both run away.”, Sgileas lectured, face stern. The two sylvari barely seemed to notice the ice in his voice, Eladus especially. The sylvari looked up at him with eyes glazed with pain, yet wonder and awe mixed in them.

“Thank you, brother.”, the sylvari mumbled. “Without you we might have...I might have...”

The two sylvari exchanged glances and something twisted in Sgileas, something told him that he needed to be far, far away and he muttered, “Try to stay safe.”, before he left the two to their longing glances.

Caithe and Kahedis were waiting for him, had watched the spectacle, short as it had been. “You have done...exceptionally well.”, Kahedis acknowledged with a nod of his head, confusion flickering in his eyes. “Your powers are beyond any I have seen, except our brother, Trahearne.”

The compliment reached a fond part of Sgileas heart. “I saw much of the Firstborn in my Dream.”, Sgileas revealed. “He is an inspiration to me.”

Kahedis slowly nodded. “I heard that your Wyld Hunt is to kill Zhaitan. I am sure that your paths are entwined.”

Sgileas felt giddy at the thought. Awakening had held so many wonders and questions, yet the one thing he looked forward to most was seeing Trahearne, the Firstborn and _only_ sylvari he had seen with power to match and even rival his own.

“I am sure if our brother were here he could teach you about Necromancy. It is not an easy road to travel. This green knight... he was no usual knight, was he?”

How would Sgileas explain to her that the life he had sucked from the warrior tasted foul? That the essence itself was corrupted. “He was touched by nightmare.”, was all he said.

She was studying him with squinted eyes. “Your powers are incredible, especially so shortly after awakening.” It was as though a threat lay in her tone, mixed with suspicion that she dared not voice aloud. Sgileas met her eyes levelly, understood even that which she did not say. “The nightmare is a great temptation to most.”

“I am not _most_ , firstborn.”, Sgileas reminded her, tried to keep the cool from his voice, but her insult was clear as day.

“Indeed.”, she agreed. Khaeldis watched, if a little curious, but he seemed to share her worry and suspicion. “Come. Mother wants to meet you.”

The Pale Tree, the Pale Mother. Their sentient being that breathed life into their botanic humanoid forms, that gave them the Dream and purpose ad guidance.

He followed Caithe, not quite sure what to expect. When they reached the chamber he recognized the Avatar of the Pale Tree immediately among all the plain and simple other sylvari.

She was outstanding, lovely, beautiful. Her bark glowed white, the pollen that drifted from her skin the color of liquid gold. Her eyes were soft and the smile playing at her lips filled even Sgileas with warmth.

When they entered she greeted them. “Caithe, my daughter. This is the new Valiant?” The eyes turned toward him and he felt tested and lowered his eyes, his knee bent before he could even stop himself. Devotion filled his heart, as compelling as his Wyld Hunt, but it was not a demanding voice. It was a soft song his heart replied to.

“Mother.”, Sgileas greeted and her chuckle sounded like bells ringing in a soft summer breeze.

“My son, you must not kneel. Rise, and let me see you.” He rose to his feet without hesitation. “You received a calling so early, there is much that will be expected of you.”

“I will not fail.”, Sgileas answered without doubt.

“Your Wyld Hunt is exceptional and dangerous.”, she warned and looked worried. If she had been any other than the Pale Tree, his mother, he would have snorted and laughed. But with her he could not, did not want to. “Orr is an accursed land full of terrors. Zaithan's influence can be felt even here, its roots digging far and wide. The dead rise to its will, a cursed whisper that compels them to return to plague the living.”

“I fear no terrors nor death.”, Sgileas solemnly replied. “Let me be your blade in the darkness. I will fight this evil in your name.”

The devotion pleased her, but she looked reluctant and worried still. “I fear we must be patient. Haste will be our enemy in a battle such as this and as much as your ferocity will inspire some, we are not enough to strike this foe. Zaithan is a threat to all of us – to all of Tyria – and only with our combined strength will we succeed.”

Is that what she had seen in a vision? “Then our task is to unite Tyria against this foe.”, Sgileas said.

The Pale Tree smiled, pleased that he understood. Her eyes trailed toward Caithe. “Your Wyld Hunts are linked.”, the Pale Mother noticed and Caithe nodded.

“Trahearne as well.”, Caithe answered. “I have already sent word to him about Sgileas' dream. He is on his way from Orr.”

The Pale Tree nodded eagerly and Sgileas felt excitement warm his chest. “The three of you will work together, your Wyld Hunts concern the land of Orr – and with it, Tyria. Be valiant, my children.”

“Of course.”, Caithe bowed her head.

“Always.”, Sgileas answered.

He would meet Trahearne. Firstborn Trahearn, the Necromancer, the very first of sylvari, a force to be reckoned with.

And his Wyld Hunt was entwined with his. This truly was worth waking up to.

 


	3. Dream and Reality

Trahearne arrived three days later. Sgileas had been busy discovering the Grove in all its entirety, its beauty and marvelled at the various plants, bushes and ferns that twined to make a home for their people.

He had listened to the mentors, the travellers, other races speak of their journeys and cultures, had watched shapers bring from and life to the plants around them.

It was evening when Sgileas returned to the Dreamer's Terrace, quite satisfied with the knowledge he had acquired. There was so much he yearned to know and discover, as well as to finally approach his Wyld Hunt with more than just words.

So when he saw Caithe speaking to Trahearne he smiled when he approached, his eyes trained on the firstborn sylvari. He looked every bit as the Dream had shown him, pale green skin, armor grown from his own bark, light ferns and yellow eyes that glanced at him when he entered, but gave him, other than that, no information about what the firstborn was thinking.

“At last you return from Orr, brother.”, Caithe smiled. “What news?”

Trahearne lowered his backpack onto a table. “Zhaitan's power is growing, and the Risen carry its corruption throughout Tyria.”

“As I feared, we must be ready. Ah, Sgileas.” She had her back turned to him and only noticed him now, turned her head toward him with a smile. Despite her smile, however, Sgileas felt her suspicion toward him. Whether it was his natural ability or prowess he could not say. “This is the firstborn, Trahearne. I believe he carries the heaviest burden of us all. Our task is tangible, is dangerous, but his is ephemeral...there may be no solution.”

Sgileas knew all this: Trahearne's Wyld Hunt was to cleanse Orr of the corruption that poisoned it. Before he could answer how honored and humbled he was by Trahearnes presence the firstborn suddenly cut in,

“I am afraid we have no time for proper welcomes.”, Trahearne said and Sgileas noticed that the firstborn barely even glanced at him, as though he was not even there. “There is a more imminent matter at hand. Warden Tegwen patrols the beach at Anwen, destroying the Risen that wash up in from Orr. We exchange many letters on the subject. Her last missive was written during a recent storm, and mentioned an Orrian artifact she'd seen washed up on the beach. Tegwen she intended to retrieve it, but since then, I've heard nothing. I fear for her safety.”

“I will look for her.”, Sgileas immediately said – not out of charity. He did not know this Tegwen, even if her service on the shores and defeating the Risen clearly was important – but his most urgent desire was to come closer to Orr, if even a little by seeing these Risen so many feared for himself. “If she is in trouble, I am confident I can rescue her.”

Trahearne seemed to notice him for the first time, but his face was blank. “If there are any questions, you have but to ask.”, he said.

“What can you tell me about Tegwen?” Perhaps the sylvari was reckless and prone to such behavior, which would give Sgileas something to look out for.

“She is so insightful.”, Trahearne said and Sgileas saw the hint of a smile. “When Orrian artifacts wash on our beach, we have many discussions.”

“Was she just curious about them?”

“Indeed. I have been becoming something of a mentor to her, and we share our information.”

“You speak highly of her.”, Sgileas noticed intrigued. Perhaps there as something about this sylvari after all. “I will return once I know more.”

  
  


How he had ended up with this cabbage-headed idiot of a warrior Sgileas could not even recall. The sylvari – Carys was her name – trailed after Sgileas like the plague, inhibited as though when she had awakened, it had been from the wrong end of the pod.

“Oh, why did I not think of the Krait?”, Carys pouted and hit her own head with a hallow fist. “Don't worry Tegwen, we are coming for you.”

Sgileas sighed. Freeing anyone with this idiot in tow would prove rather difficult. Had she been hit in the head with one of the mortar shells the plants throw? Wrong place, wrong time? And why would anyone even _stand_ her stupidity? Sgileas felt he grew moronic by her presence alone.

As he had suspected Tegwen had been captured by Krait and after quite a ruckus that Carys made about snakes snivelling through water and about them having no backbone they finally managed to free her mentor.

Exasperated Sgileas was glad that the idiot was finally gone from his hands. “Thank you for saving me.”, Tegwen said to both him and Carys. The warrior hugged the sylvari tightly.

“I am so glad you are alright.”, she murmured. 

“Trahearne sent me.”, Sgileas quickly cut in. The other prisoners they had rescued assembled around them. “He said you found an orrian artifact?”

“I saw it, yes. When I went out to search for it it was gone. While I continued to look for it the Krait ambushed me.”

Another idiot. They see something sparkling and rush after it. “If it was something shiny, the local skritt might have picked it up.”, a small asura names Larra cut it. She had the guts to be demand a great deal of Sgileas patience.

“Then lets talk to them.”, Sgileas finally decided before any other idiot could open their mouth. He was quite tired of the slow pace. He had lost half a day already.

The skritt were, thankfully, helpful, but skittish and annoying. Almost more than Carys, but then again Sgileas could not be sure anymore. His patience was wearing thin as it was.

“There it is!”, Tegwen pointed toward a mirror and dashed toward it, her eyes gleaming in fascination. “This definitely is the artifact I saw.”

“A mirror.”, Sgileas dead-panned. He was torn between being utterly frustrated and annoyed or just disappointed. It turned out it was a mixture of all three. 

If Tegwen heard his tone she did not show it. “There's...something.”, she mumbled and stepped closer to the mirror. “Like a scape...something behind that mist... It looks just like -”

Sgileas felt the magic, the hum and thrum of it in the air before the others even saw it. The mirror splintered without a sound, opened wide like a jaw and began to glow. The light engulfed Tegwen's form and he heard her gasp in surprise, saw her being pulled in.

“Tegwen!”, Carys screamed and wanted to dash after her, but Sgileas shoved her back with more force than necessary. She fell backwards and landed on her back, looked up at him in confusion. “We have to help her!”, she yelled up at him and for once he thought her not so much an idiot, right then.

“Yes.”, he agreed. “But I need you to protect these skritt should anything _come through._ A portal works both ways.”

Understanding dawned on her face and she nodded gravely. “I will. No harm will come to them.”

“Good.”, Sgileas said and gripped his staff before he waded in.

The first thing he noticed was the air. It tasted bitter, dry, of ash and sand and dust. The second was the magic that permeated it. Cold, dark, lithe. Like fingers of a corpse that gripped from a watery grave.

The environment was cold, stark and bare. Rocks and cliffs loomed around him, sharp like teeth and erecting into the sky like splinters. Cautiously he turned his head, saw the portal active behind him and then moved onward.

The first thought that crossed his mind was how anyone was to turn this land back to the way it had been. That if this truly was Orr and not some illusion Trahearne must feel his task was quite beyond him and yet he relentlessly held on. 

Spiders greeted him on the path, black like the night and large and bloated, eyes the color of blood. They skittered closer and hissed and when he drew their essences from their bodies they resisted, quivered at the effort it took them to do so. More formidable foes than he would have thought and decided that a blade might be necessary. With a swish of his staff the scythe cut through the spiders, even at a longer distance, and their bodies succumbed.

A few meters ahead Tegwen had somehow managed to create a wall of crates to hide behind and she looked utterly nonplussed when he walked toward her as though he owned the ground he walked on.

“Come on.”, Sgileas urged. “I believe you would rather not remain.”

“No.”, she agreed and followed him back, her eyes full of awe and wonder. “How did you find me? There were Risen and spiders everywhere...”

“I killed them.”, Sgileas shrugged, his eyes trailing over the cliffs to the side, searching for anything that might ambush them. 

“You are strong.”, she breathed. 

_Good of you to notice_ , he thought, but bit it back. Perhaps a bit of humility was in order. “I have to be. My Wyld Hunt is no easy task.”

“Indeed. With a force such as yours, Zaithan will quiver. I am sure you will do a great many things.”

The compliment almost fell on deaf ears. Almost. Except that Sgileas simply loved when someone noticed how great he was. People did so often, until they found out just  _how_ confident in his abilities he was.

When he stepped back through the portal Carys rushed to hug Tegwen once more. “Oh, I am so glad you are safe! Did the Risen attack you?”

“I am fine, Carys. Did...did you kill all these Risen?” She was talking about the various corpses that lay sprawled around the mirror. 

“I did. Sgileas said I need to protect the Skritt, so I did. Like I protect the beach.”

Tegwen smiled at her. “You did a good job, Carys. It looks like you won't need me anymore at all, now that you are doing the rescuing and fighting.”

“Nonsense.”; Carys interjected. “The beach would not be the same without you, Tegwen. We need you.”

Tegwen chuckled and looked at Sgileas. “Will you take the mirror to the Grove? I think I have had my share of it, for now.”

“I will.”, Sgileas agreed. With help from the skritt he packed it onto a wagon and – finally – made his way back to the grove.

  
  


“Firstborn Traheare.”, Sgileas greeted and approached him and the Pale Tree with a smile. A knowing one – because he had once again succeeded, and especially so on a task the firstborn had sent him on. “I have the artifact that Tegwen saw on the beach. It's a mirror that can open a portal to orr. Tegwen was careless and triggered it and was pulled through. I rescued her.”

“You went through?”, Trahearne asked with frowned eyebrows, his face a mixture of disbelief and surprise. “Few have the courage to look into the heart of Orr. That was both courageous as it was reckless.”

Sgileas fell, just a little, enough for Caithe to notice. The smile on his lips twitched slightly, gave impression to the frustration underneath.

“The dragon's corruption is a blight that sickens the heart. If we do not stop Zaithan, the entire world will wither an die.”, the Pale Tree whispered gravely, emphasizing the urgency this mission had once more.

“Orr is a land full of corruption and magic that we do not understand in its entirety.”, Trahearne agreed.

“That place was foul.”, Tegwen shivered and Trahearne cast her a sympathetic glance. Why was Trahearne scolding _him_ when he had done the right thing? When he had rescued Tegwen? Gotten the artifact just as he had asked? Anger bubbled in Sgileas chest. The weak would always get sympathy. It was their way. They used this – exploited it.

“Stay near the Pale Tree for a while, little sister.”, Trahearne suggested and his eyes were soft. “In time, your spirit will heal again. Trust me. I know this well.” Tegwen nodded and Carys seemed to guard her with her presence alone.

“I got a first glimpse of Orr, and what my Wyld Hunt means. A picture of an enemy and the land he inhabits.”, Sgileas said, more an argument directed at Trahearne and the yellow eyes studied him. Why did it always seem as though Trahearne had not even realized he was there? As though Sgileas barely existed?

“The devastation you have witnessed is no easy burden.”, Trahearne said levelly.

“I am no wilting flower.”, Sgileas insisted, almost glared. Why was he angry? There was no need to be frustrated like this – this was not about Trahearne playing favorites, was it? He could not possibly feel that he was inferior to... _Tegwen_? Be jealous that she had somehow wrapped her little weak finger around the firstborn with sympathy?

“It would seem that way.”, Trahearne murmured. “I know only few that wander Orr's ground and are not shaken by what they have seen.”

The Pale Tree smiled knowingly at Trahearne and Sgileas. “I am glad you are safe under my bough, and home.”, the Pale Tree intervened, noticed the heated air the discussion seemed to take. “Rest at ease, my children.”

Sgileas bowed his head to her. “Then I will take my leave, if you require no more of me.” When he left he felt various pairs of eyes, but what burned in his mind was the feeling of frustration, of jealousy.

Because Trahearne had appeared in his dream, their Wyld Hunts were linked and yet it seemed that the firstborn was cold toward him, that he looked down on him as though he was green behind the ears like a freshly sprouted leaf. 

He was supposed to be his mentor. They shared so much already – a profession, a Wyld Hunt, power, race and gender. Sgileas had thought it would be natural that they get along – but he guessed he was wrong.

Perhaps he was not weak enough like the others. Not inhibited enough like Carys. Not blessed with an infantile curiosity like Tegwen. Or perhaps it was because he was no firstborn, no secondorn, not even a thirdborn.

It was unfair, all of it. Trahearne had appeared in  _his_ Dream. Why then was reality so different? The Dream only showed glimpses of visions, never their complete form, never the sole truth of it. Perhaps Sgileas had misread it – perhaps there was still more to be done until Trahearne learned that Sgileas had more potential than the rest, that he was stronger than them.

That he deserved the firstborn's attention, and not a mere warden guarding a beach from Risen and collecting shiny artifacts. As his first adventure had proven, even the  _skritt_ were capable of such a thing.

His teeth scraped over one another in his frustration and he took a deep, calming breath. If he needed to prove himself worthy he would, he vowed to himself.

 


	4. Justice for Riannoc

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holla there!  
> This is really, really long, and I apologize. But I found the Personal Story so gravely important, especially to highlight Sgileas character even more. This chapter is basically dedicated to Sgileas and his character, his traits and emotions.   
> For all of you that are waiting for Sgileas/Trahearne, the next chapter will not be it. The next chapter will be about the Vigil, and more of Sgileas. The chapter after that will be Claw Island, and my fingers are, as Iowerth would say, "Positively tingling" to write that part. So excited!  
> Anyway, enough brabbling. Have fun!

He arrived in the Omphalos Chamber after Caithe's letter and frowned at the group of Representatives that all stood around the Avatar of the Pale Tree, their air filled with frustration and anger.

“Munition golems?”, one syvlari asked with a frown. “You want to fight Elder Dragons with toys and dollies?”

“Better than throwing away sylvari lives on a direct assault.”, a male sylvari in a blue robe answered curtly. 

“No one is throwing away lives.”, the slvari in heavy armor grit out and looked ready to punch someone, the representative in the robe especially. “Vigil soldiers are the best-trained fighting force in Tyria!”

“Valiant!”, Trahearne's voice broke over the argument and everything seemed to still and halt when Sgileas approached. Eyes were all on him and he squinted his own, took in the appearances of the Representatives. “They have been going on like this for an hour. Everyone, please be silent. We are all finally assembled, and the Mother Tree wishes to speak.”

It sounded like they had waited just for him, Sgileas noticed, but shrugged it off. He had come the second he had gotten the message. 

“Greetings, Valiant. Today, you take the next steps on the journey of your Wyld Hunt. Zhaitan's forces are gathering at Overlake Haven. The orders wish to defend the location, but their plans differ. Valiant, I name you to be my herald in this matter. The Grove can only back one of these plans. May your Dream guide your decision.”

Sgileas lowered his eyes when the Pale Tee showered him with a bright smile. “Thank you, Mother Tree.”, Sgileas said and raised his fist to his chest in a gesture of gratitude. “I will do my best.”

“My name is Branthyn. I represent the Vigil.”, the sylvari woman in heavy armor stepped forward without being bid, but she commanded an air of superiority around her that Sgileas liked very well. “We can have a platoon arrayed at Overlake Haven immediately. Our soldiers can handle this situation. In the Vigil, we prefer to fight our enemies head-on. The best way to protect the haven is to provide military force.”

“You're asking to risk countless lives. Herald, the Durmand Priory proposes a far safer course of action. My name is Iowerth.”, the man in the long, blue robe cut in. “The Priory wants to utilize experimental munitions golems to destroy the undead. We'll have no soldiers on the field at all.”

“Completely untested munitions golems! You're the one risking lives. What if your golems fail?”, the vigil representative snarled.

“And you, emissary? You've been quiet through the whole argument.”, Sgileas said and his eyes bored into those of the sylvari woman that had tried to blend into the shadows, her form small and frail, but her posture was not one of weakness. It was one of subtlety, of daggers in the darkness.

She seemed pleased he had noticed her and met his eyes with a gleam in hers. “I'm Cai, and I represent the Order of Whispers. I brought this situation to the Pale Tree's attention, but I'll leave the front-line fighting to the others. “

Sgileas smirked at that. “Brawn is not everyone's strong suit. I understand.” He turned toward the Pale Tree and Trahearne, noticed he was being watched, his answer eagerly awaited. He knew Trahearne was part of no Order, yet he asked, “What do you think of the Orders?”

“I have worked with them in the past and I respect them a great deal.”, the firstborn answered.

“And why haven't you joined one?”, Sgileas asked. Not that Sgileas particularly felt like joining one, they all seemed inhibited in their own way. To have them collaborate as one – now that would truly be worthy of his contribution.

“Orr consumes all of my time. I cannot remain here on the continent while the land there cries out for aid.”

Sgileas eyed the representatives. All of them seemed eager to have him aboard, and he could not blame them. But all that made him work with  _any_ of them was the fact that he needed their support, that their forces were required in order to succeed in his Wyld Hunt. He had been blessed with power, but apparently not enough.

It was clear which path he would take. To use untested devices simply involved too much curiosity that Sgileas neither had nor wanted to entertain. “Before I decide, care to tell me about your plan?”, Sgileas asked Branthyn and the sylvari stood proudly.

“A Vigil squad punches through the undead sieging the haven. Once we've liberated the haven, a combined assault will be plenty to mop up the enemy.” Her eyes trailed toward Sgileas staff and noticed the small dark shadow that flicked over his wrist. “I've heard impressive things about you. Like me, you never turn your back on a challenge, eh?”

“A challenge would prove entertaining.”, Sgileas had to hold back his grin.

Trahearne's eyes narrowed at that. The Valiant had barely awakened a few days ago and wandered Tyria with the arrogance of a misguided firstborn – such as Faolain. And would probably even take offense to be compared to such, but it was the truth. The arrogance was well deserved, Trahearne thought, but completely misplaced. 

It would not serve Sgileas well. People shirked arrogance, it made them uncomfortable, made them fearful, just as mystery did. And Sgileas was both: Powerful, and a dangerous mystery that lay unresolved. Caithe had insinuated that the Sapling might fall to the corruption of the nightmare, that his arrogance and impertinence would easily lead him down that path.

“There are innocent lives at stake.”, Trahearne reminded him. 

The eyes that met him were cool, almost glaring. “I am well aware.”, Sgileas said, just level enough to not be a growl. “Which is exactly why I will trust in forces that have proven to be effective, that of the vigil, and my own.”

Iowerth's color grew in his cheeks, but the sylvari bit back a comment. “Well said, Valiant.”, Branthyn grinned. “I will await your arrival at Overlake Haven.”

The Representative made their exit and Cai gave Sgileas a long searching look before she disappeared. 

“Herald, a word.”, Trahearne cut in before the Valiant could leave. Sgileas turned toward him, a hint of surprise on his features. 

Why did Trahearne not address him by his name? Why the verbiage?  _Formalities create distance,_ his mind told him. 

The firstborn approached, had stopped Sgileas before he entered the seed and descended the Omphalos chamber, just out of earshot from the Pale Tree. “These decisions are not to be made lightly. The Orders all deserve respect. They have united and fought against the elder dragons in their respective ways.”

“Is this about their pride?”, Sgileas asked. “Iowerth's idea was no good. I am sure you would agree that testing golems in such a dire situation is a risk we can not take.”

“And if the golems had a chance at proving their worth they might have proven an asset in on-coming battles that we are sure to face. Experiments in the field always pose a threat, but Iowerth chooses his artifacts and experiments wisely – you should respect and commandeer his experience.”

“Then perhaps the fault lies with them, not with me. Why are you scolding me when _they_ insist only one Order can save Overlake Haven? When _they_ can not work together on something simple as this? Have the Vigil defend Overlake Have and the Priory golems safely behind them – but no. They insist that working together is an impossibility. This is faulty by design, but it is not a fall _I_ am willing to take.”

“They have each fought their battles with each a different method.”, Trahearne said. “It is only natural that they trust in that which has worked for them – and that change is difficult to accept, much less encourage. But you will not raise courage for open minds and hearts if you disrespect them.”

“It is not I who is responsible for their closed-off minds. An open mind is a sign of intellect, one that I can not coerce. How would you have me tear them open? With force?”

“With camaraderie, reverence and _respect_.”, Trahearne insisted. “They will be more willing to listen to a mind that mirrors their own.”

“I am not like _them_.”, Sgileas said lowly and turned without so much as a by-your-leave. As his form disappeared Trahearne could only murmur in dismay,

“I have noticed.”

  
  


Sgileas success at Overlake Haven came as no surprise. Branthyn was full of pride he had joined and grinned widely at him after she joined him where he stood – far at the front, right in the middle of a small crater that was made by risen corpses.

“I heard a great deal about you, Herald.”, Branthyn said, her eyes trailing over the corpses. “I have to admit, you exceeded the rumor.”

“My tale's just begun.”, Sgileas said and sheathed his staff. 

“It would certainly appear so.”, the syvlari woman sheathed her sword and stemmed her hands into her hips. “You should consider joining us – we can use someone with your powers.”

“I will consider it.”, Sgileas agreed and his eyes trailed toward the hill in the distance. “But tell me, did you notice that strange-looking creature watching from the hillside?”

“I did.”, she replied grimly. “I have never seen its likes before. If Zaithan has created something new, we'd better figure it out quick so we can learn its weakness.”

The figure had stared at him with cold, hardened eyes, an aura had engulfed it that had the quality of undeath mixed with the chill of dark magic. “We should return to the Grove. The Pale Tree awaits our report.”

  
  


The Ompahlos chamber was filled with the eager Representatives, Caithe, Trahearne and the Pale Tree when Sgileas and Branthyn finally arrived.

“Whisper agents report a strange creature leading the attack on Overlake. Know anything about that, Branthyn?” Cai asked as they approached.

“That's classified information—unless you're planning to join us on the battlefield when we fight it?”, Branthyn shot back.

“If the Vigil wants to rush off like idiots, go ahead. Our agents are a bit more cautious.”

“"Cautious"? I guess that's one word for it.”

Sgileas walked past them, barely paid their banter any mind. His eyes were fixed on the Pale Tree and he bowed his head.”I have good news, Mother Tree. Overlake Haven is safe, and the undead have been driven away. “

“Valiant, I was told about the strange undead you saw on the battlefield. I think I can help you.” It was, much to Sgileas surprise, Trahearne that had spoken. He raised his head and looked up expectantly. “The creature sounds like a lich. From the description I was given, I think I can identify it as Mazdak the Accursed.”

“Mazdak the Accursed? I know that name. One of my firstborn, Riannoc, went to destroy Mazdak many years ago.”, the Pale Tree murmured, and Sgileas felt her grief even where he was standing. “I armed him with a thorn from my own bough, a mighty sword named Caladbolg. Both were lost, never to return to the Grove.” There was a short pause in which she took a deep breath as though to ease the pain, then her gentle eyes turned toward Sgileas. “Herald, it seems you have a chance to discover the fate of my lost son and perhaps even avenge Riannoc's death.”

“I will, Mother.”, Sgileas vowed. The pain was so apparent on her features he could not bear to see her like this – if certainty could ease it, he would do all that was in his power to uncover this mystery.

“Legend says that Riannoc chose a human to be his squire. If that squire survived, the Order of Whispers could find him. The Order is very good at tracking people down - even when they don't want to be found.”, Cai was the first to speak.

“Untrustworthy, as always.”, Iowerth said haughtily, a smile playing at his lips. “I have an alternate suggestion. As you may know, the Durmand Priory specializes in researching and recovering lost knowledge. This sounds like an exciting opportunity to experiment with a ritual we've uncovered. If cast, it lets you witness the last moments of a person's life.”

“The mystery of Riannoc's death has pained the sylvari since the days of the firstborn. Knowing his fate would help to heal that wound.”, Trahearne mentioned and his eyes bored into Sgileas'.

He remembered their last talk very well and he exhaled with a sigh. _Fine_ , he thought. _I will do it your way._ The nod of Trahearne's head was all the encouragement he got. 

“Cai.”, Sgileas said and the woman lifted her chin just slightly when she was addressed. “Tell me of your plan.”

“I know a human settlement north of the Caledon. Waine has friends there. He may have told them what really happened. We will unocover what we can with Infiltration, espionage and good old-fashioned arm twisting. Are you in?”

Sgileas eyes flashed to Trahearne for an instant, barely the splinter of a second. “What do you think of the Priory's idea?”

“Iowerth's order has a lot of toys, but they're useless if you can't rely on them. His ritual is a dice-toss. We need information, not hypotheses.”, Cai answered with a shrug and Sgileas agreed with her, but he willed his mind to at least consider Iowerth's option.

“Iowerth.”, he said and the sylvari looked at him, slightly surprised. “What is this ritual you mentioned?”

“We can see the last minutes of life. Be witness to the events immediately before Riannoc's death. Think of it!”, the sylvari almost jumped in excitement, clearly in his element.

“I am.” _Trying to, at least._ Sgileas thought of what Trahearne had said, tried to apply it, but he could see no advantage from Iowerth's plan, a magical ritual that might not even work, whereas the Order of Whispers had managed to get information where others had failed. 

And then it appeared. That if this ritual did not fail, if it worked, it would prove an advantage for the future. To see moments of a life not your own, the last moments of someone elses life. Information that could otherwise not be obtained. An untainted truth that even Waine's friends could never retell.

And that this was Sgileas opportunity to advance his idea of uniting the Orders. “Cai, gather your information. I am sure you can operate without my assistance. Iowerth, is this experiment dangerous?”

“Well, it's a little dangerous.”, Iowerth reluctantly agreed and when Sgileas raised an eyebrow, the sylvari sighed. “A lot, actually.”

“Then it would appear that my assistance is required.”

Iowerth's eyes shone. “Appreciated.”

It was harder to navigate a path he would not usually choose and he was rewarded with Trahearne's smile that somehow made it all worthwhile. “You have done well.”, the firstborn said once the Representatives had departed. “I am glad to see the lessons on you are not wasted.”

Sgileas realized that he had not noticed Trahearne mentoring him even from afar, giving him direction and guidance just as Sgileas had dreamed – only it had come in a form he had not imagined. It frustrated him, because Trahearne attempted to teach him in virtues he saw no value in.

“I hope this over-thinking is worthwhile.”, Sgileas grumbled. Trahearne's gaze turned forlorn and sad and the firstborn sighed. Sgileas frowned at the reaction, wondered breifly if he had elicited this reaction? That had not been his intention. Something twisted inside him when he saw Trahearne in such a state of sorrow and he wanted to redeem whatever he had done to make it so.

“Forgive me.”, Trahearne murmured before Sgileas could open his own mouth to apologize, even though he did not know what he had done. “You remind me of our brother Riannoc.” There was a short pause and Trahearne's gaze drifted somewhere beside Sgileas head, his eyes and mind absent. “Ah, Riannoc... I warned you – told you not to go alone. But you did not listen. We were all so confident. So unafraid of death...” Trahearne trailed off.

“You told him not to go?”, Sgileas asked and Trahearne nodded, the firstborns eyes slowly meeting his own again. They looked pained from a distant memory.

“I did. But he would not listen. He said that Mazdak was too great an evil to leave unchallenged.”

“And in that he was right.”, Sgileas was determined. “Riannoc will be avenged – and the wound will finally close.” Perhaps the promise of vengeance would lift Trahearne's spirit.

Trahearne studied him thoughtfully and then slowly bowed his head. “Let us hope so, Valiant.”

The firstborn turned back toward the Mother Tree and left Sgileas wondering if Trahearne doubted him, if he thought that he would die on his quest for revenge. That Sgileas and Riannoc might share more than the sentiment that a greater evil needed to be vanquished. That they shared the same fate.

_Death and Darkness_ , Sgileas thought.  _It seems Trahearne has forgotten that I awakened with those very gifts_ . With that in mind Sgileas left to follow Iowerth.

  
  


“Well met, Herald! I'm so excited about this, I'm positively tingling.”, Iowerth greeted him when they met in Lychcroft Mere. “The Priory does a great deal of research into ancient forms of magic, and this ritual was a real find. One of our explorers discovered it while tomb-raiding in the Crystal Desert. I tell you, one learns the most amazing things as part of the Durmand Priory.”

“How do we cast the ritual?”, Sgileas asked quickly, afraid that Iowerth might never stop talking. He already regretted choosing this course of action.

“The ritual allows one to step through time and experience the last moments of a subject's life. You will actually tangibly be there!”

“Could I change anything?”, Sgileas wondered. Now that would be a ritual indeed. Alter time-lines. That would truly be exciting.

“Sadly, no. Events which have already happened are fixed in time. However, this is one caveat... Although Riannoc's death is predetermined, your death is still mutable. The dangers will be quite real - and potentially lethal. You could die as well.”

Sgileas snorted. “Just tell me what to do.”

“Press your hand on the earth. The swamp may have swallowed Riannoc's body, but it cannot keep us from contacting his soul. This will be a test of your courage, Herald. Good luck.”

Sgileas did as Iowerth had instructed. The world seemed to pass by, years over years over years drifted past, and darkness hovered over the swamp like a curtain. He could not see Iowerth. Instead two figures appeared, one clearly sylvari, the other just a small human fleshling.

“We make our stand here. The Pale Tree has given me a mighty weapon. Armed with Caladbolg, we cannot fail.”, the sylvari warrior claimed, the great sword in hand.

“The lich is powerful, Riannoc. His army is vast!”, the human cried, was barely more than a child.

“What good is power when it's afforded to you by an evil master? What good is an army when you're standing against love, honor, and loyalty?”, Riannoc riddled, clearly trying to ease and sooth his squire.

“But none of your kind has ever experience death. Do you even understand fear?”, the boy asked.

“I don't need to understand it.”, Riannoc insisted. “I only need to do what is right.”

“No! I'm... I'm afraid. I'm frightened, Riannoc! I can't... stay...”, the boy looked terrified.

A great army of Risen appeared and Riannoc bravely stood his ground, slashed and cut at the many enemies that outnumbered him greatly. The wounds began to wear the firstborn down and as the risen fell, so did he.

“Waine! Where are you?”, Riannoc asked and the boy appeared from a hiding place.

“I can't do this!”, the boy insisted. “The lich is too strong. I'm too scared! Let's use the sword to save ourselves. Come on! Let's go!”

“Caladbolg... the sword is powerful. With it, we have a chance to- “

“A chance to escape... yes! Riannoc, I want to live. I have to get out of here. I don't want to die!” The boy grabbed the sword from Riannoc grasp, rushed away into the dark leafs.

“Waine! No! I need Caladbolg to kill Mazdak! Come back! I cannot give up! Mazdak is coming!”, Riannoc called, but the boy's steps disappeared in the distance. Riannoc seemed to realize his predicament when two Risen appeared. He was unarmed, injured, and had nothing left in him but his courage to make a last stand. “Forgive him, Mother. We were both... too young...”, Riannoc whispered and closed his eyes, accepted his fate.

Sgileas stomach twisted at the sight, that a sylvari like the firstborn who had been unafraid of death suddenly had no other choice but to accept it, and did so valiantly. Anger boiled in Sgileas, anger for the human that had stolen Caladbolg from Riannoc's hands.

The world changed once more, tore him from the vision and Iowerth appeared, his form almost bright against the darkness that Sgileas had gotten used to. “What did you see?”, Iowerth asked eagerly.

“Riannoc was abandoned by his best friend.”, Sgileas brought out, was still fighting the bile that rose in his throat.

“How tragic. The Dream was young, and our predecessors knew little of the world. Riannoc couldn't possibly have understood what it meant to take such an untried human into battle.”, Iowerth said, his eyes full of sympathy.

“I cannot forgive Waine for his cowardice. He didn't just flee; he took Riannoc's weapon. With Caladbolg, Riannoc would have stood a chance. Without it, he was doomed. He left Riannoc to die.” Sgileas took a deep breath. “Let's return to the Pale Tree and share what we've discovered.”

  
  


“Welcome back, Herald. Tell me, have you learned of Riannoc's fate?”, the Pale Tree asked eagerly.

Sgileas chest tightened. “I have, Mother. Riannoc died fighting Mazdak the Accursed, but his sword was stolen. “

“Stolen? What foul, contemptible foe dared steal Caladbolg?”, Caithe cut in with spite.

“It was no foe. A friend betrayed him. Waine, Riannoc's squire. During the battle, he stole the weapon and fled.”

“Betrayed, and by someone he loved. Why are people so drawn to betrayal?” The last part Caithe murmured more to herself in a bitter tone.

“As you have instructed, I went ahead to find out more about Waine.”, Cai said. “The lout's been using Caladbolg in pit-fights outside Lion's Arch. Apparently, Waine used to fight at the proper gladiator ring inside the city, but was blacklisted for excessive violence.”

“Waine still carries Caladbolg then.” To not merely steal a weapon and leave a friend to die, but to profane the blade by using it in such a lowly manner...

“I insist that the Vigil accompany you. We'll face this wretch in the tournament ring and thrash his hide!”, Branthyn roared. “Our order is founded on the principals of courage and duty. I can't stand to hear that Caladbolg is being wielded by an honorless traitor.”

“You trusting fool! Waine'll flee if he finds out you're there. With a little trickery, we can manipulate the tournament.”, Cai cut in. Her eyes snapped toward Sgileas. **“** Once Waine's been beaten, the Order of Whispers can steal the sword with ease. Stop thinking with your sword-arm and start using your brain.”

Sgileas narrowed his eyes at her, felt ice freeze in his veins. “My brain works best without children such as yourself playing about to distract it. I intend to make Waine see exactly what he conjured with his betrayal – and that he can not run from me, try as he might. Let him see me, I say, and enjoy the tremble of the coward and traitor. I will be the last nightmare he ever has. If he flees, we will track him down. He can not hide. Not from justice.”

Cai's eyes were hard and widened just a fraction, and Sgileas did not dare look at his Mother. He could imagine she did not approve of his anger, but Waine would die and he was not about to sugarcoat his intentions. Waine would die. And Sgileas would be the one to make it so.

“The vigil is with you.”, Branthyn nodded toward him. “He will have no chance to run.”

“Let us make haste.”, Sgileas said and finally looked up at the Pale Tree. Her eyes were infinitely sad, but whether it was because of what he had said or because of the fate of the firstborn Sgileas could not decipher.

“It grieves me that my champion's weapon is in the hands of a coward. Herald, recover Caladbolg, and restore this injury to our people.”, she ordered, and Sgileas was glad he had not disappointed her with his outburst.

“By the tablet, I swear it will be done.”, Sgileas vowed.

She nodded gravely and took a deep breath. With a flick of Sgileas robe he turned and made his way toward the lower levels to face a traitor.

Trahearne watched with consternation. That outburst of emotion had rid Sgileas of all the lessons Trahearne had tried to bring across. Everything forgotten in the rush of anger and the thirst for revenge.

Caithe gave him a knowing glance, one he tried to ignore. Instead he lowered his eyes toward the ground. How would he stop this darkness from growing? At this rate, Caithe's suspicions might turn out to be correct, and they would loose Sgileas to the Nightmare.

Vengeance so easily turned into a hunger that could only be quenched by the pain of others. And once that road was tread, the Nightmare was not far.

“Have faith, my son.”, the Pale Tree said behind him and he turned toward her in surprise. She looked like she knew what was going on in his head. “The road ahead is uncertain, but I know he will prevail.”

“He is ferocious and arrogant.”, Caithe cut in. “He thinks he is in control, but isn't.”

“He will learn.”, the Pale Tree said, her eyes suddenly far away and her expression sad. “He will learn. Like you all did.”

  
  


“There he is—that's Waine, fighting in the pit. You can tell by looking at his sword. It's got to be Caladbolg.” Sgileas was glaring down at the broad human, the hatred growing in steady waves.

“Treasonous snake. Let's jump down there and break it out of his hand!”, Branthyn growled and Sgileas agreed, but his eyes cast a wary glance around the spectators.

“I share your sentiment, but we can't make a scene. Half these people are bandits. If they suspect the sword's value, we'll have more trouble on our hands than is necessary.” Even though he would not mind taking these no-good fleshlings to the grave.

“You're right, of course - but that doesn't make this any easier. The Vigil punishes evil. It's difficult to stand here and allow it to continue. Then we'll have to enter the tournament as we'd planned. If we defeat him honestly, we can claim the sword as "battle-price." If he doesn't give it to us, he'll be shamed in front of all these thugs. Then he's the dead one. If you think you can beat him, you join the tournament. I'll stay up here. If these thugs get rowdy, I'll handle them.”

“Then I will handle Waine.”, Sgileas said and a smile played at his lips. Oh, he would enjoy this. He made his way to register when he brushed past a child and its father.

“Hey, dad? What are those walking ferns?”, the child asked and Sgileas bristled at being called a walking fern. He was a sylvari. Had the child no education?

“Sssh, son, don't call them plants. Watch the fighting and let daddy drink his beer.” Sgileas would have rolled his eyes, but passed by without a word.

“You there, sylvari! We don't see many of you around here. Either of you want to fight in the pit?”, a charr asked when they approached.

“I will.”, Sgileas stepped forward. “I'd like to fight _him_.” He gestured towards Waine.

“That's Waine, our current champion. First you have to survive the preliminary rounds. Then you can fight Waine.”, the Charr grumbled.

“I do not believe in warm-ups.”, Sgileas sharply replied, but the Charr seemed unimpressed and shrugged.

“Those are the rules. Abide or leave.”

Sgileas snorted. “Fine.”

He entered the ring and the enemies he encountered were nothing in comparison to even some Krait he had fought. Heck, it did not even closely come to a warm-up.

When Waine finally showed Sgileas was ready. The powers seeped into his bark, hiding his intent and the full extend of his abilities. He had not used his necromantic abilities – and he would not. His staff would suffice. And he would make Waine see the ground, have the human dig his own grave, only to bury him in it.

It was easy. Almost too easy. To think that a man such as Waine could have taken Caladbolg, was responsible for the death of Riannoc who had _trusted_...

Sgileas growled and with a painful smack crashed the staff against Waine's head. Waine whined and fell to the ground, knees buckling under his weight and he clutched a wound that was oozing blood.

“I am here for Caladbolg.”, Sgileas revealed. “I have defeated you. It is mine – _ours_.” He pronounced the word and Waine seemed to realize who he was dealing with – and why.

“The sword is mine! Riannoc wasn't worthy of it. He was willing to give his life...for what?”, Wainen spat.

“For his people. And for you, Waine. He stayed to give you a head start from Mazdak. The lich would have chased you down to get Caladbolg. That's why Riannoc died. To safe your sorry excuse of a life, the hide of a treasonous snake, the unexpected dagger in the darkness.”

“No. You can't know. You weren't there!” Waine's eyes had gone wide with fear. “I'll kill you. Then, I'll put Riannoc and you smug sylvari behind me, for good! “

“You are welcome to try.”, Sgileas seethed. Waine lifted himself to his knees, up to his feet and that was as far as he got.

Sgileas unleashed the shadows, the darkness, it flowed from within to the outside, surrounded his form and shrouded it in a shade. Waine gasped, fell backwards and scrambled away in fear when the shadows moved toward him, long, lithe fingers that grasped at his ankles.

There was a pained screech as his body was engulfed in darkness that faded only after a few seconds. The darkness and shade slowly lifted and dissipated like smoke into the air, and everything had become eerily silent.

The spectators had stopped cheering, had stopped clapping and only watched in horror when they saw what was left of Waine was nothing but pale bones. Sgileas took a deep breath and then exhaled. He knelt down and grasped Caladbolg.

“Time to go home.”, he whispered to the blade and the blade thrummed in his palm, whole-heartedly agreed. When he looked up he was that he was being watched and his lips curled into a smile. “Thank you for letting me participate.”, Sgileas said toward the Charr and made his way up the ramp, walked past everyone without glancing at them. “I enjoyed myself immensely.”

Even Branthyn had paled slightly, but she recovered more quickly. “ You were amazing down there! Your combat prowess is really something. Remind me to stay on your good side.”

Sgileas was looking at his wrist where Waine's life essence circled his arm, green, pale, a small hint of darkness. “He was glad to die.”, he murmured thoughtfully.  “He carried the burden of his betrayal all these years – he knew one day would come where we would take our revenge. His death was a mercy, for him, at least.”

“And you have given it.”, Branthyn smiled. “Come, Herald. Let us take Caladbolg back to the Pale Tree, and then we'll find a way to make Mazdak pay.”

  
  


“Waine is not the only villain in this tale. We must bring down Mazdak.”, Branthyn was saying as Sgileas entered the Omphalos chamber.

“Killing a lich is no easy matter. It will require significant planning.”, Cai insisted.

“Every creature has a weakness. Even Mazdak. If we have the knowledge, we will know where to strike.”, Iowerth smiled.

When Sgileas approached Trahearne was the first to notice and the firstborn nodded toward him. “Welcome, Herald. Join our circle - there is much to explain.”

“Greetings, my courageous Herald. I have heard news of your victory. Caladbolg is returned, at last.”, the Pale Tree smiled and Sgileas placed the sword gently into her hands were it hummed contently.

“Waine's been punished at last.”, Sgileas reported.

“Herald, my research at the Priory proved fruitful. I know where Mazdak the Accursed was buried, and I believe I know his next target.”, Iowerth said. ”He's planning to attack a human town known as the "Ascalon Settlement. If we don't stop him, he'll wipe them out.”

“He's attacking Ascalon Settlement? Why would he attack a peaceful settlement?”

“Who are we to understand the mind of a lich?”, Caithe asked and Sgileas turned his head toward her. He expected her to say such a thing, that she cared not _why_ an enemy did what it did – surely this was exactly what had been her downfall, and had remained her weakness even to this day.

“We have the soldiers to defend the settlement. If the Pale Tree would allow Caladbolg to be borne into battle, the Vigil can destroy Mazdak. All it takes is firepower, courage, and a direct assault.”, Branthyn offered.

“You always think in a straight line! Look, Mazdak's forces will have to move through the centaur tribes to get to Ascalon Settlement. Why not turn them against each other and take down two birds with one stone? The Order of Whispers could do that easily.”, Cai suggested.

“I know where Mazdak was buried. The Priory could explore his tomb, get past the traps, and find a way to destroy the lich while he slumbers. It's the logical approach.”, Iowerth commented.

“This lich must be destroyed. For Riannoc. For Tyria.” Caithe's voice was firm and cold. “Listen to me, Sgileas. The orders wish you to join them. If you do, they will lend you strength. With their backing, we can defeat Mazdak. It is your destiny to fight Zhaitan. Joining an order will help you achieve that goal. Choose wisely.”

“My choice has already been made.”, Sgileas said. “The vigil have proven most effective.”

“You mean akin to your thoughts.”, Caithe folded her arms in front of her chest.

“Which come up with a variety of methods that are _effective_.”, Sgileas dead-panned with a glare. 

Trahearne shook his head. Sgileas had done it once again; the arrogance had gotten a hold of him. “The other options are just as viable.”, Trahearne reminded him. “Do not rush into a decision.”

“I will not entertain ideas that are of no value to the goal I wish to accomplish.”, Sgileas answered with determination, his tone final. “I am tired of tedious side-tracks and wasteful maneuvers. You asked me to choose and to deal with this – then let me do it. _My_ way.”

“I do not think you would let me stop you.”, Trahearne said with a sigh. “I am sure your decision is guided by the Dream, even when as precipitated as it this.”

That made Sgileas waver, just slightly. Because there were only two people here that could sway him; one was the Pale Tree, his mother, and the other Trahearne. It occurred to Sgileas that what he felt was that he did not want to disappoint the idol he looked up to, was frustrated with them distrusting his instincts and intellect. 

The anger drained and Sgileas shoulders dropped slightly. “If you think this an ill decision, I will hear your counsel. But I am not simply rushing into this as you might think – I am merely a fast thinker. The Priory are disregarding the defense of the Settlement completely and the Order of Whispers brings a battle that might not turn out as planned. Adding the Centaurs to an already volatile mix of Zaithan's minions and possibly angering them further would only lead to conflicts in the future for the Ascalon Settlement inhabitants, even after Mazdak has been defeated. They would not forget our deception easily. I say we fight the one battle and do not invite another to our doorstep.”

There was an awkward silence that filled the small chamber and Trahearne's eyes softened. Perhaps the arrogance was more than just a display of superiority. Perhaps it was a mask, a shield, so that nobody would question and ask, so that events could transpire without delay. A tactic to avoid wasting any time. 

“That is the mind of a tactician.”, Trahearne nodded toward him with a pleased expression. 

The sour atmosphere had lifted, the grudges against Sgileas arrogance had faltered. With his explanation everyone understood, and neither Cai nor Iowerth were resentful for his comments. 

“It is why I belong with the vigil.”, Sgileas decided. “My abilities are most useful there.”

“We are proud and honored to have you aboard.”, Branthyn gave him a firm nod.

“Then let us make sure that we take down Mazdak, once and for all. For Riannoc.”

Trahearne smiled. Perhaps the lessons would take more time, but the Pale Mother had been right. He would learn. Eventually. 

  
  


Killing Mazdak the Accursed, the Risen that had taken Riannoc's life, was just one more step that Sgileas enjoyed thoroughly. Exacting revenge was simply something he found oddly gratifying. Waine had been the one, Mazdak would be the other.

The human settlement was easily defensible with the vigil forces, even if it took some convincing for the villagers to evacuate before-hand.

“Leave? Why? The village is perfectly safe!”, a human woman in a fancy dress protested as Trahearne tried to convince her in a calm tone. 

“It will not be safe for long. The Orrians are on their way. We must evacuate.”

“All my things are here!”, she protested stubbornly. “I can't just leave!”

Trahearne noticed Sgileas approach and turned toward him. He spoke in a low voice so only Sgileas could hear, “This is a delicate negotiation.” It was a warning, perhaps a request for Sgileas to not be quite so impertinent.

When Sgileas approached the woman she folded her arms in front of her chest defiantly. “Go away.”, she grumbled. “I am not leaving my gold.”

“Suspicion is the fruit of a cautious and intelligent mind.”, Sgileas began and the woman narrowed her eyes. “If you are cunning enough for this, then you will recover from this loss.”

“But...”, she tried, but it seemed to have convinced her. “...You are right. I can recover. My grandparents left more behind than this when they fled from Ascalon.”

Sgileas nodded. “Go. We will watch your back.”

She ran for the hills and Sgileas watched the hem of her dress disappear in the distance. “Well done.”, Trahearne praised.

“She is stupid to not see the danger she is in.”, Sgileas grumbled out.

“She is terrified, and fear brings out worse parts in us that we never knew existed.”, Trahearne wisely said. “Empathy will get you a long way.”

“Empathy is a skill acquired by the strong so the weak do not get disheartened by their inferiority.”

Trahearne raised an eyebrow at him. “What exactly are you fighting for, then?”

“My Wyld Hunt.”

“And why do you reckon we possess such a calling? Why do you think our race possesses it, whilst other races search for their purpose their entire life?” Sgileas blinked at Trahearne in confusion and his thoughts began to churn, but before he could answer Trahearne looked over his shoulder toward the gates. “That's the banner. It's time. Remember: Mazdak is an enemy that you should not underestimated. Be careful.” The firstborn made his way toward the gate before Sgileas could protest.

_Be careful_ , it echoed in his head. For some reason he held on to those two words, clutched them close, printed them into his bark. 

Sgileas shook his thoughts away when Mazdak appeared. He approached the lich with Caladbolg in hand, could feel the blade thirsting for the blood of the enemy, for revenge. The lich's eyes narrowed.

“You think you can avenge your dead kinsman? You will fall, as he did.”, Mazdak said and Risen surrounded him like a shield made of death. “I will break Caladbolg - and you, along with it!”

“Lesser have tried. Perhaps you will succeed in leaving a scratch.”, Sgileas challenged.

Sgileas was nimble and quick and dodged the strikes Mazdak threw at him. Caladbolg was a weapon he was not used to, yet the blade seemed to move almost on its own, empowered by an own desire for justice and he was simply its bearer for the time being.

Mazdak the Accursed wore down with each strike, could not land a blow on Sgileas. Every time the lich almost did, Sgileas formed into a shadow that made the weapon cascade through smoke, only to appear with a smug grin.

When Sgileas pushed Caladbolg forward Mazdak stepped back, lost his balance for a fatal second and Caladbolg pierced through the lich's chest. Sgileas heard the lich gasp and then pulled Caladbolg free, watched as Mazdak fell onto his knees.

“No, this cannot be.”, the lich gurgled, clutching the wound on his chest.

“And why not?”, Sgileas asked and grabbed the lich's hood, held it tightly in his hand and pulled the lich's head back. The mask was blank, but beneath Sgileas saw the eyes glint in the light. “You died once. The second time should come as no surprise.”

“Curse you.”, Mazdak brought out and Sgileas gripped harder.

“No.”, he replied coolly and lifted his other hand, held his hand in front of Mazdak's face. “Curse _you_. You have crossed us, and you shall pay the prize. In full.” His fingers made a pulling motion and he sucked the essence from the lich, pulled it free from its rotten and undead form. 

Mazdak growled and Sgileas heard the lich grit his teeth, saw the strain beneath the mask to resist. Sgileas pulled harder, more determined. 

“Your master will be next.”, Sgileas promised. “Zaithan willfall.” The essence lifted from Mazdak's body in thin strands that looked like spiderwebs, growing longer and longer until they finally ripped.

When they did there was a snap in the air, Mazdak gave a loud cry that rang over the whole settlement and the lich's body convulsed and then stilled. When Sgileas let go, the lich's body fell backwards toward the ground and exploded into a cloud of dust and smoke on impact with the ground.

When the smoke lifted there was no sign of Mazdak's body, only the small wisp that circled Sgileas wrist. Almost gently he nudged it toward his staff where it was sucked into the wood with an inaudible scream that only he could hear.

When he turned around he saw that Trahearne was looking straight at him from a distance, eyes wide and hand clutching his own staff.

Sgileas smiled. “Mazdak is dead.”, he announced and then, louder toward the plaza, “Mazdak is dead!”

He heard Branthyn cheer and numerous others following her lead, but Trahearne looked shocked and would not move. Sgileas approached him, furrowed his eyebrows.

“Is something the matter?”

“You absorbed it.”, Trahearne said in a low voice, almost disbelieving. “You absorbed the essence of a lich.”

“I absorb the essence of all my enemies.”, Sgileas dead-panned.

“It is evil!”, Trahearne insisted and finally stepped forward urgently. “You must release it!”

“I control the essence, it serves me.”, Sgileas argued. “The evil within has no power over me.”

“That is exactly what better necromancers have thought – to be overwhelmed by force greater than themselves from within.”

“Why are you always lecturing me?”, Sgileas said in frustration. “Since I have awakened you have done nothing but doubt and correct. I have done all that was asked of me splendidly, yet you deign to keep on insisting I do it _wrong_. Is it because I do not do it the slow way? The dumb way? Because I am neither Tegwen nor Carys nor Caithe?”

Trahearne's eyes hardened. “You are overstepping, Valiant.”

“My name is _Sgileas_.”, Sgileas seethed. “Do you think I haven't noticed? That you refuse to call me by my name? That you refuse to acknowledge me?”

“This is not about me.”, Trahearne said firmly. “The essence is already corrupting your heart. Release it, and you will feel the relief.”

Sgileas gripped his staff tightly, lifted his hand and made a pulling motion. The essence drifted form within, tearing from the wood and hovered in the air, a scream like a distant echo filling the air. It flickered brighter than most, yet dark speckles showed exactly whose essence it was.

He gripped the essence with his hand and crushed it in his fist. A wail that only the both of them could hear rang through the air and the essence burst, green sparkles shot out and drifted into the sky above, slowly dissipating.

Sgileas did feel a relief and his eyes followed the trail of sparks longer than necessary to avoid looking back down at Trahearne's eyes. 

“How do you feel?”, Trahearne asked and Sgileas turned his head away.

“I am not like them, Trahearne.”, he murmured, felt suddenly stark and vulnerable. “I will never be like them. You have sought to teach me empathy and patience, but I simply lack the capacity for such slow and tedious processes.”

“Compassion can be learned.”, Trahearne replied softly, was glad that Sgileas had admitted without words that destroying the essence had relieved him, that Sgileas was open and honest, even if hurtful and disrespectful to others that he mentioned. “The vigil have gained themselves a valuable member today. All I ask is that you take the questions I have asked with you on your journey so you might reflect. Perhaps an answer might show itself on one of your adventures, and you will think back on me.”

“I doubt I could forget.”, Sgileas murmured, so low that Trahearne had almost not heard. “I will think of them, but I make no promises that the results will please you.”

“The world sometimes has a funny way of teaching us what we need to learn.”, Trahearne said soothingly, was wondering if there was something hidden in what Sgileas had said. “Either way, take the lessons where you can. Where life goes, so too, should you.”

Sgileas did not dare raise his eyes. “Thank you, Trahearne.”

“No, thank _you_ , Sgileas.” Trahearne gently took Caladbolg from the holster on Sgileas waist and bowed his head. “Our Wyld Hunts are connected. I am sure we will meet again.”

With that the firstborn departed, and Sgileas was to ponder when the time would come, and if he would have an answer by then. 

“ _And why do you reckon we possess such a calling?”_ He heard Trahearne ask in his head. “ _Why do you think our race possesses it, whilst other races search for their purpose their entire life?”_

_I do not know_ , Sgileas thought,  _But once we meet again, I will._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoop! Hello there, you did it! Thanks for reading! I'll try to get to writing down the next chapter ASAP, bear with me! Thank you for being here, I appreciate it!   
> Lots of love, ~S


	5. Change of Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sgileas meets the Vigil and his mentor. They scrap, they fight, and slowly, a friendship forms - and Sgileas has a revelation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jesus, this Chapter is so long. I apologize. It turned out alot longer than expected, but I am so proud its finally here! This chapter is full of Forgal and Sgileas nonsense, but those two are just so much fun too write.

The letter he received was written by a hand he did not know. It was snarky, edgy, barely readable at all. He squinted at the lines just to ensure he was actually reading this right.

He had been summoned, or as the letter put it, “ordered” to rendezvous at the Vigil Headquarters in Lion's Arch. The 'Welcome to the Vigil' part looked like it had been written in haste, as though it had at first been forgotten.

Sgileas sighed. He was not fond of meeting anybody new – he had barely accommodated to his brothers and sisters and their ways. To meet an entirely different order and with it other races would prove difficult, especially since he was, as Trahearne would say, “impertinent”.

The keep was a stout one, large, high walls that raked up into the air offering enough defensive capabilities to withstand an assault and to hold. The sky was clear and the sun was warm on Sgileas shoulders as he passed by the training grounds, various training dummies and a small squad that stood firm in formation, yelling “Yes, sir”, at a commanding officer.

His skin bristled. He dearly hoped nobody expected him to be quite that pliant – it simply was not his way. Respect was something to be earned, not given under the circumstances of a title bestowed by another. 

When Sgileas finally entered the keep he saw a charr, a norn, and an entourage of humans that accompanied a human woman. They were discussing something and as Sgileas drew closer, the words finally reached his ears.

“Thank you for the warning, General Soulkeeper. I will make sure Queen Jennah receives your news, but I cannot make any promises. The Ebonhawke treaty is Kryta's only hope for peace with the charr. We cannot withdraw our negotiators, no matter the risk.”, the female human said.

“With all due respect, Ambassador, that's a damn fool decision.”, the norn said, his eyebrows furrowed and sharp, gray eyes glaring down as though the woman had somehow personally insulted him. Sgileas had to bite his lip to hold back his laughter.

“That's enough, Warmaster.”, the Charr cut in and gave the norn a stern look before her eyes traveled toward the human Ambassador. “Thank you, Lady Versa. The Vigil will do our best to keep everyone safe.”

There were bows, salutes, and the human and her entourage disappeared through the entrance. Sgileas watched after them, processing the information in his head.

“Who might you be, soldier?”, the charr addressed him and Sgileas stepped forward.

“Branthyn recruited me. My name is Sgileas.”

The charr rose an eyebrow and seemed to wait, even though the look she was giving him could never count as patience. “We treat each other with respect here, recruit.”, she sternly said when he was not intimidated by her stare. “My name is Almorra Soulkeeper, I founded this order. I'm its general, until I die in battle or they find someone better. Your representative sent me a letter saying that you were the best they'd ever seen. I look forward to seeing you prove that.”

“It will be a sight to behold.”, Sgileas promised and when she gave him that look again, he quickly added, “I am dedicated to fighting the dragons. Show me where to strike, and no enemy shall be left standing, General.”

Almorra flashed him a grin that showed the white of her large fangs. Sgileas wondered briefly if anyone had tried making charr-talon necklaces.“Ha! I like you already, Recruit. I've assigned you to Warmaster Forgal Kernsson for training.”

“Look here, young one. I don't care what you've done in the past.”, the norn beside the Charr grumbled sharply and Sgileas assumed that he must be said Warmaster. “The Vigil needs heroes, not tale-tellers. It's what you do today, not yesterday, that matters to me. Understood?”

“I did not awaken to disappoint, Warmaster.”, Sgileas informed him. Forgal gave him a long, searching look, one where Sgileas could not decipher whether he had already misplayed all his chances to get along with this man.

“If you give each other a chance, I think you'll get along just fine.”, Almorra laughed. “Now, to business. Renegades are threatening the treaty negotiations between Kryta and the Iron Legion. The Vigil needs to ensure that the treaty goes through. Those two nations need to be fighting the dragons, not each other. You'll be dealing with Commander Samuelsson, leader of the Ebon Vanguard and avid treaty supporter. Head to Ebonhawke, and stop those Renegades.”

“Then let's not waste any more time.”, the Warmaster grumbled and saluted Almorra. “General.” Without so much as a word to Sgileas the norn brushed past.

“You had better keep up.”, Almorra nodded toward the norn. “He is brisk, but you'd do well to listen to him. He's a wise old cuss, and I have a great deal of respect for him.”

“And what made him so?”, Sgileas asked curiously, and then once again quickly added, “ma'am.”. Sgileas did not like the rank-calling and respect-giving at all, but he thought of it was just another way of address – his respect would be earned.

He was merely pliant to avoid any conflicts so early on, and he could see how easily those would arise if he were to remain stubborn. He sighed only inwardly and hoped these tedious precautionary measures would at some point pay off.

“Many years ago in the norn lands, Jormag's minions slaughtered Forgal's family. He came to use to protect others from that fate... and to try and forget.”

A soft heart, hardened by tragedy. Sgileas had seen various fate's such as this in the Dream and wondered just how large a spectrum the emotions could become – and what that loss actually felt like. Or any loss, at all.

“Thank you. I better head out, ma'am.” She nodded and he felt her eyes on his back as he hurried after the norn.

When he had finally caught up the Warmaster gave him a side-glance. “You seem mighty soft for the Vigil, Recruit. Still, if you're willing to work hard, you might pass muster.”

Sgileas snorted. “There is nothing soft about me. You'll see.”

“Huh. You've got the right attitude, even if you are green.”, the Warmaster granted him. “Keep your mind keen and your eyes open.”

Ebonhwak was a human city and as such had the very same design as all the others: Large walls that surrounded the inside, buildings lined and stacked upon one another and squeezed tightly into the small place to accommodate all the inhabitants.

But Sgileas did not have time to ponder about the horrible design of the city. As soon as they stepped through the Asura gate it was clear that something was amiss. The air carried the scent of gunpowder and fire, smoke rose in the distance above the buildings and there were sounds of fighting coming from ahead.

“Welcome to Ebonhawke, Recruit. I—by Raven's wings!”, the Warmaster interrupted himself and noticed just as Sgileas had. “What in the Mists is happening here?”, the norn demanded to know from a human soldier whose forehead was furrowed and sweat trickling down his brow.

“It's the Vigil! Thank Balthazar, you're just in time. I'm Samuelsson. Wade Samuelsson, Commander of Ascalon.”

“I'm Warmaster Kernsson, and this is my new recruit. Give me a status report!”, Kernsson demanded and Sgileas smirked at the tone. The norn was sharp, brisk, demanding – qualities Sgileas liked.

“Here's the problem. A bunch of charr Renegades smuggled explosives into the city. They were trying to blow up one of the outer walls. The Ebon Vanguard stopped the demolition team, but Renegade forces are attacking everywhere from here to the central plaza.”

“That sounds like a blood-covered mess, Commander. How can we help?”

“We have to get to the city's central plaza. Turn right, head down the road and through the crossing. You'll see a big statue at the center of the square. Once we take the square, the Vanguard can do the rest. But without a rallying point, we're falling apart.”

“We'll capture the plaza, Commander, and teach a lesson to any Renegades we find along the way. Ready, Recruit? Move out!”, Kernsson yelled and was already pulling two axes from their sheaths on his back, running down toward the plaza.

Sgileas gripped his own staff and excitement filled him. Fighting – now that was his strength and he was already eager to show the Warmaster just what kind of “Recruit” he was dealing with.

“Ebonhawke, fall? The hell it will. The hell it will, while I'm here.”, the Warmaster grumbled, but it was more to himself.

When the enemies came into view Sgileas cast out every distraction and spun the staff in front of him, felt the cold run into his fingertips and toes, felt the darkness envelop his body like a mantle and second skin.

The staff turned into a scythe, the dark blade not even reflecting the light of the sun. It was only shadow – and shadow already meant the absence of light. The scythe cut through flesh and bone mercilessly and the charr that stood in Sgileas path had no way to dodge his attack as the scythe spun and pierced forward.

Sgileas halted and had cut a path through the enemy lines, saw that they were in disarray and trying to collapse on him, but just as they turned toward him they ignored the massive norn warmaster that appeared behind them.

An enemy cornered by two fronts in a dead enemy.

Squeezed between the warmasters axes and Sgilea's shadows the renegades fell, painting the ground red and building piles of charr bodies. Various essences lifted into the air and Sgileas collected all of them with a thoughtful and reminiscing smile.

The Warmaster could not see the essences, but he had seen necromancer's before. That smile was almost playful, partly luring, and yet cruel. Even a trained warrior such as himself found himself suppressing a shiver at the sight.

Behind them, only now, appeared the Vanguard that looked clearly surprised by the many char that lay at Sgilea's and Kernsson's feet, but nobody commented on it.

“The road is secure! Vanguard, form up and hold this area. We'll advance toward the crossing.”, Commander Samuelsson announced.

It was the same. Sgileas dashed forward, broke the lines and Kernsson trapped the charr between a rock and a hard-place. Needless to add that the renegades had no chance to defend themselves and wee extradited to the combined assault.

Sgileas relished the moment when they realized what was happening to them – and that they would not make it out alive. It was a moment of truth, of separation from anything like honor and valor and left only the instincts to guide the body – instincts that betrayed them. Because the fear that sparkled in their eyes was what Sgileas fed on, what made the essences larger, stronger, more powerful.

He had not quite yet understood what emotions made the largest essences. Or what kind of foe. Clearly someone with more power held a larger essence, yet someone shivering and quivering in fear, begging for their life held a similar one.

It was a darkness that rose akin with the emotion, an oblivion where character would be. Emotion overruled everything, the instinct of survival larger than any noble duty. At least for those too weak willed, and of such existed plenty.

The death was mixed with that darkness, and the darkness was Sgileas power, his might, his friend. His _sole_ friend. 

They secured the crossing and the square as well, and Commander Samuelsson was clearly relieved. “Your timing was perfect, Warmaster Kernsson. I can't thank you enough. The Renegades are getting bolder. This is the first time they've ever tried to bomb the fortress from the inside.”

“New tactics may signify a new leader.”, Warmaster Kernsson said and Sgileas agreed – and was glad that finally someone with at least a bit of a mind existed. “You think they finally found a shot-caller with half a brain?”

“Think it? I know it. He's a charr named Ajax Anvilburn, and that rotter's a thorn in my side.”

“Do you know anything about Anvilburn?”, Sgileas asked and Samuelsson regarded him.

“Scouts tell us the Renegades have a camp outside Ebonhawke, but my troops are tied up defending the treaty location. The Ebon Vanguard hasn't had a chance to check it, but if I had to guess, I'd say he's either there or his soldiers are.”

“We'll take a look, Commander. Ill-disciplined thugs like these should be easy to find.”, Warmaster Kernsson grumbled. “Let's go Recruit. And don't forget to bring your weapon.”

Sgileas rolled his eyes dramatically. Just what kind of idiot did the Warmaster think him to be? “If I did, I'd simply have to strangle my enemies. Works for me.”, Sgileas commented and the Warmaster seemed to ignore he had said anything at all. 

They walked abreast until the Warmaster finally did answer after all, “I've seen all sorts of trouble from kids like you.”

“Don't call me kid.”, Sgileas replied sharply. 

“Haha! Got some spark in you, eh, Recruit? Good to see. We'll need it if we're gonna stamp out these Renegades. Get ready to move, and keep your voice low. If we're lucky, we can catch these bootjacks sleeping.”

“You really think we'll be lucky?”, Sgileas asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Kid, we both know that kind of luck doesn't exist.” Now Sgileas was sure the Warmaster was using the term “kid” to antagonize him. “Still, try to take prisoners if you can. We'll need them to give us information if Anvilburn isn't there. There's a time for strategy, and there's a time for kicking the door down. We don't need tactics against this rabble. We just need force.”

Sgileas gave a short laugh. “Very well, Warmaster. Force it will be.”

“Right, then.”, the Warmaster grinned at him, one which Sgileas returned. ”Don't worry about "hello," just skip straight to "surrender or die." Now move out.”

Luck may no exist, but stupidity did. Sgileas saw the camp in the distance and the various charr dozing on the ground.

“By the Spirits, is this some kinda kiddie playground? Wake up out there!”, the Warmaster called and he and Sgileas stood upon the hill and gazed down upon the camp.

The Charr stirred form their sleep, suddenly wide awake. Startled the whole camp came alive, there was a rush and charr attempting to grab a nearby weapon.

“It's the Vigil! Get 'em!” a charr ordered.

Sgileas chuckled. He had yet to meet an enemy that could lay a hand on him. Just for the fun of it he engulfed himself in shadow, a creature of darkness and shade, a moving screen of smoke. He covered the Warmaster with him, engulfed the norn in his shadow and moved forward, scythe in hand.

He could _feel_ them trembling from here. 

With a cry the Warmaster broke through the shade and surprised the Charr, his axes spinning and cutting wildly at furred skin. “Whoever trained you must be crying right now. You best run!”, the Warmaster yelled when the Charr broke formation and looked torn between fighting and running.

Some ran, those that stayed were unfortunate to land under either Sgileas or the Warmaster's blade.

“That's all you've got?”, the Warmaster called after pulling an axe free from a charr's chest, splattering blood onto the dry ground. “Come on, you mangy runts!”

That seemed to rile some of them up – anger flashing in their eyes and the charr stormed forward for one last assault. Uselessly.

The Warmaster looked down at the bodies that lay motionlessly. “You're the worst-trained, most cowardly loustabouts I've ever seen!”, he cried after those Charr that had fled.

Sgileas snickered beside him. “Kicking in the none-existent door worked marvelously. This one here seems to have some life in him yet.” Sgileas was referring to a charr that lay on his back, had scrambled backwards and was clutching a wound on his chest.

The Warmaster approached with a large, brooding figure, casting a large shadow over the charr who looked like he might faint. When the charr realized what situation he was in, desperation and stubbornness gave strength to defiance.

“You shuck-brained cur! Where's Ajax Anvilburn? We know he's behind the attack on Ebonhawke. Spill!”, the Warmaster demanded and Sgileas leaned on his staff, watched the display with glee.

“Y-you just missed him. He left this morning. He's on his way to kill some worthless human named Duran. They're settin' an ambush at Summit Peak. They'll kill Duran, then leave the bloody knife with ol' Steelcrusher. We're killing two peace-lovers with one trap!

“Ashes and snow, he means Minster Kent Duran, the Krytan ambassador. I bet Steelcrusher's the ambassador for the High Legions.”, the Warmaster realized.

“You're Vigil, aren't you? Ha! Ajax'll be sorry he missed killing you. Tell his human-loving mother, Almorra, that one day we'll spit on her grave!”

Now, that was definitely interesting. Almorra's own son, working and fighting rebelliously against his mother. Sgileas did not comment on it – it was of no worth at the moment. So long as Almorra's feelings would not interfere with the mission – which was bigger than the relationship they had – then this was of no consequence.

“We have to evac before more Renegades show up.”, the Warmaster grumbled and looked over his shoulder. “Leave this coward to rot and die alone. Let's get back to Ebonhawke and warn Samuelsson about Ajax's plan.”

The warmaster was already turning away and the Charr looked up at Sgileas fearfully. “Don't kill me. I'll change my ways. I'll go back to the Legions!”

“That sounds little like the Charr I saw cowering and stutter a few seconds ago.”, Sgileas eyes gleamed darkly. “What happened to your defiant fighting spirit?”

“It- ah, well. I like living, is all.”

Sgileas smiled. “Don't we all?” and lifted his hand.

The Warmaster tried to ignore the scream behind him. When Sgileas joined him again everything was eerily quiet and he cast the necromancer a glance.

“You do not approve.”, Sgileas commented. “But leaving a coward like that upon the face of Tyria is an insult to my conscience. His essence serves me better than he could have in all his life.”

“I do not disagree with the result, just with the method.”, the Warmaster said.

“It would mean little if we agreed on everything, now would it, Warmaster?”, Sgileas smiled and saw the quirk of the Warmaster's lips, but got no answer.

  
  


“Who are you people?”, the woman in Vanguard armor demanded, her auburn hair short around her head, her dark eyes glaring at them. “Commander Samuelsson didn't mention an escort, and you certainly don't look like the Vanguard!”

“We're with the Vigil. We know about the attack planned for Minister Duran. We're here to make sure you reach him in time.”, Sgileas answered nonchalantly, ignoring her tone.

“An escort? I'm a soldier of the Ebon Vanguard. I don't need babysitters.”

“We're not babysitters, we're tourists.”, Warmaster Forgal said with a charming smile. “Traveling the same road, taking in the same scenery, and beating the ever-living crap out of the same idiots as you. You look like a fine sergeant. Are you really going to tell us where we can't go and who we can't beat up on such a nice day?”

The woman's eyes were hard. “I have to get this message to the minister. I don't have time for this. Just keep up, or I leave you behind. So Vigil's my escort? Fine. Just don't tell the rest of the Vanguard. I'll never hear the end of it.”, she marched on and if Sgileas had had any doubt left inside him that she had made an empty threat, then she proved now by her marching pace that she hadn't.

“If I'd had a daughter, she'd be a lot like Jeyne...except smarter, stubborner, and better-lookin'.”, grinned the Warmaster, and Sgileas remembered that Forgal had had a family – one killed by the dragon, Jormag, but didn't mention it.

It was not something Sgileas wanted to address. Not here, of all places, and because it was a matter with an emotional value Sgileas could never do justice. He liked the Warmaster, the way he treated people, how he was not as dumb as the others. Straight-forward, and somehow gifted with a tongue that could charm even stubborn people like Jeyne, with an affinity for empathy and sympathy.

Sgileas thought that Trahearne would like the Warmaster very well, instead of him.

Forgal startled him from his thoughts as they winded down the path. “You're doing well so far, Recruit—but don't get too cocky.”

“So all we have to do is get Sergeant Jeyne to the ambassadors?”

“It's not as easy as it looks. The renegades could be anywhere. This has "ambush" written all over it. Stay sharp.”, the Warmaster warned.

Ahead Sgileas could see a group of Renegades waiting directly on the path. “Is that another Renegade up ahead? They aren't even bothering to disguise their ambushes? That's just insulting.”, Jeyne grit out.

Sgileas made sure to shroud Jeyne away from the Renegades eyes while Forgal made short work of them. The woman looked quite unhappy that he was going to such an extend to protect her and when she glared at him, he gave her a charming smile and a shrug.

Beside the road ahead lay a body of a human, bloodstain covering her Vanguard armor. “I see a survivor. Stand the line, we have to help her!”, Forgal called.

“No, we can't risk it! If the ambassador is killed, many more lives will be lost.”, Jeyne intercepted and Forgal glared at her.

“You'd abandon your own soldiers?”, he demanded, but she stood her ground and glared right back defiantly.

“We all knew the risk when we joined the Vanguard. Duty first.” She marched onward as if to demonstrate her resolve and Sgileas saw that the Warmaster was chewing on the words.

“I'll keep her safe.”, Sgileas offered. The Warmaster gave him a long, hard look.

“If I see so much as a hair missing on her head, I'll have yours. Now move!”

Sgileas grinned and hurried after the woman who was going at a brisk and steady pace, almost running along the road. She ignored all distractions, her focus entirely on the road and her destination, and soon enough the camp came into view with a Vanguard greeting them.

“Officer on site! Stand at attention!”

“We're here.”, Jeyne commented as if Sgileas had not realized it. Her pace slowed, but only a little and behind them came the heavy, thundering boots of Forgal who was carrying two human bodies.

Yes, Trahearne would like him very well.

“Thank you.”, one of the humans mumbled, a wound on her head indicating that she felt too dizzy to walk by herself.

“Don't mention it.”, Fergal said and caught up with them. Jeyne made no comment, but even behind her cold, even mask that was her face Sgileas could see the emotions displaying, even if only briefly.

Jeyne hurried toward a small tent. **“** Minister Duran! Sir! Please, it's critical that you hear this. Commander Sammuelsson sent me from Ebonhwak. You're both in terrible danger.”

“Danger? Slow down, Sergeant. Take a deep breath, and tell me what's going on.”, the human ambassador said.

“Ajax Anvilburn and his Renegades are going to ambush you. They plan to assassinate Minister Duran and blame the attack on Ambassador Steelcrusher.”

“Well, we can't let that happen, can we? Duran, can you fight?”, Ambassador Steelcrusher asked with a grin.

“Not as well as a charr, but I can hold my own.”, Duran answered with a grin of his own. “We could take cover at Summit Peak up ahead. Having the high ground would be in our favor. The camp is a defensible location. If the Renegades don't know we're prepared, we could turn the tables on them when they attack.”

“With all due respect, Minister, the best defense is usually a good offense. I recommend we find the traitor's base and destroy Ajax before he can strike.”

“The Vigil were the ones to uncover this plot. With due respect, sirs, I think we should let them decide if we choose ambush or assault.”, Jeyne cut in.

“I am also a fond believer of pressing the attack.”, Sgileas smiled.

The Charr's grin widened, baring his fangs. “Good choice. Their camp is at the Thunderbreak Hills. Let's give them a piece of our mind.”

Charr certainly seemed to have the right attitude as well. Perhaps it would have been better to awaken as a norn or charr? Sylvari were curious, lively, energetic, yet somehow lacked the fierceness and stern pertinacity that Sgileas admired.

“I am still upset the Vigil came to babysit me.”, Jeyne complained and thrust her hands into her hips.

“Do not pout, Seargant.”, Sgileas looked at his staff instead of her. “To me, it would have hardly made a difference. A smear on the ground, another essence to absorb. Personally, I like living. It is a shame you do not seem to share that sentiment.”

She paled at the shower of insult and her posture crumbled. “I could have handled it myself.”, she finally argued and Sgileas smile was unwavering.

“To a certain point, yes.”

She looked ready to punch him, but held herself back. Forgal had to force his face to keep level, and the two ambassadors watched with raised eyebrows, whilst the charr bodyguard snickered openly.

“Let's head to the camp.”, the Warmaster intervened before the situation got out of hand.

Jeyne brushed past Sgileas and he gracefully stepped aside, her shoulder that would have bumped into him meeting air. She did not even look back at them and Forgal stepped beside him.

“I too believe she could not have handled this on her own.”, the Warmaster admitted and they grinned at one another. “But try not to agitate the hydra next time.”

“I will endeavor to do so, Warmaster.”, Sgileas smiled. But it was no promise.

  
  


The way toward the camp was without consequence. A few renegade scouts had been spotted and disposed off, but somehow Sgileas was sure that they had missed some.

Just in front of the camp Forgal was arguing with Jeyne. **“** For the love of—Recruit! Talk some sense into this woman! She's more stubborn than a goat shaman.”, Forgal growled.

Jeyne seeme unimpressed. **“** Forgal, these are Renegades. They're nothing but an unruly mob, and they're trapped in a cave with only one exit. If you seriously think this'll be a fight, then maybe you should start thinking about retiring, old man.”

Sgileas had to hold back a snicker and Forgal looked at her with angry, squinted eyes. **“** Watch it, soldier, or I'll "old man" you into the ground. Those are charr, and they know we're coming. They've chosen a defensible point, and they've have had time time to fortify. If you go in recklessly, you're just going to die.”

“A wise man taught me there's a time for strategy, and there's a time for kicking the door down. I'd listen to him if I were you.”, Sgileas shrugged, his arms folded in front of his chest, eyes gleaming with humor.

Forgal regarded him carefully. “Looks like you learn quick, Recruit. Good. Now listen here, Sergeant. We're going to stick together as a unit so we aren't picked off one by one. We go in slow and careful, and watch out for surprises. Recruit, I'm putting you on point. Tell me when you're ready to advance.”

“I awoke ready.”, Sgileas twisted his staff gracefully over his hand and gripped it. Time to show off.

The Vanguard dashed forward in an assault and was flattened by an attack from within the cave, a loud shot ringing through the air. Earth sprayed everywhere and the dust slowly settled, showing small craters were canonballs had landed. The bodies lay scattered over the ground and Jeyne had gone a shade paler.

“They've got canon's!”, Forgal cried. “Storm the line!”

That was Sgileas' signal. He twisted the staff, whirled it in front of his body as he surged forward. Shadows engulfed him and he was nothing but a shade that swirled through the entrance toward where the canons stood. The charr manning them were too slow to react and with a movement of his scythe, Sgileas cut through the metal of the canons and rendered them useless.

The charr began to flee into their backline while the Vanguard and Forgal stormed in, and they easily caught up with the retreating Charr and cut off their escape. The cave was filled with growls, swords clashing, screams.

Various essences drifted eagerly toward Sgileas, both Vanguard and Renegade alike, empowering him even more. Ajax had prepared the Renegades for an attack – but not enough.

Ajax was nothing of the fearful opponent the others seemed to think. He dropped just as easily to Forgal's axes and finally the sounds of fighting ceased. Jeyne approached them carefully. “You were right, Warmaster. The Renegades were ready for us.“

Forgal laughed. “No. They just thought they were ready for us. They couldn't stand against the Vigil.”

“I don't understand those Renegades. With the dragons out there, we can't afford to be divided.”, Sgileas shook his head.

“Some people can't see past their own noses. It's a good thing we can. This treaty will help even the odds against Zhaitan. Count on it.”, Forgal looked almost fond, then. “You did well, Recruit. You learn quickly, you adapt, and you know when to put hammer to steel.”

Sgileas looked at him in surprise, had not anticipated this sudden burst of praise. Coming from the likes of Forgal, it meant even more.

“I wasn't sure I'd like you when we started this operation. Almorra kinda twisted my arm to take you on. Said you were special. But damned if you didn't live up to every word she said. You aren't like the rest of these young'uns hanging around the order. I'm field-promoting you to crusader... but don't let it go to your head.”

Pride filled Sgileas. A development indeed. This whole time he had been worried that he would have to twist himself, change himself into something he wasn't just so he would not have to hear Trahearne's disappointment again. 

It had been a challenge for him, a new one, one where he thought he would have to discover some sort of passage that would work for him. And now, it turned out he would not have to change a thing. **“** I won't, old man.”, Sgileas grinned, but it slowly faded into an earnest smile. “And thank you. It's an honor and privilege to work with you, too.”

“Old man, huh?”, Forgal said in a grump, but the smile betrayed him. “Don't push your luck. I think you are finally becoming worthy of our order.”

“Why Forgal, keep that up and people might think we're friends.”, Sgileas warned in jest.

“Don't get cheeky with me.”, Forgal grumbled, but it was playful, just as Sgileas tone. “We are done here. Pack up, tend to the wounded. The two of us will head back to the Vigil Keep to give General Almorra an update.”

Right, Sgileas remembered. The body that lay in front of them was her son.

“Right behind you, Warmaster.”

  
  


“Well done, recruit. Or, as Forgal has informed me, Crusader. You saved the treaty between Kryta and the Iron Legion.”, General Almorra praised.

“I hope they managed to create a lasting peace, General. We can't defeat the dragons unless both nations work together.”, Sgileas said and then bowed his head. “I understand Ajax was your son. Tyria's safer because of your sacrifices.” He meant that she had sacrificed her son for the well-being of Tyria, that she had seen a greater whole where lesser would have faltered. It was a deed worth mentioning, and worth respecting, even without sentiment involved.

“Thank you. I agree.”, General Almorra nodded and smiled.

“General Soulkeeper.”, Forgal suddenly interjected. “I'd like to request that the crusader be permanently assigned as my partner.”

Sgileas looked at the Warmaster in surprise. Forgal was not looking at him, was looking at General Almorra instead. He and Sgileas had gotten along well, they had immediately worked well together, their mind's on the battlefield had aligned.

But even then Sgileas had not thought anyone would stand him and fight beside him. And would ask to do so again. He knew very well that his arrogance was not well liked and received and as such Forgal seemed to be the sole exception to what Sgileas had thought simply was the rule of his life. A rule he had come to accept – only to now question it.

“That's a surprise, Forgal. You going soft on me?”, the General teased.

“I don't have time to break in anyone else.”, Forgal grumbled and when General Soulkeeper kept staring at him with a knowing smile he yielded. “... All right, I admit it. We work well together.”

“Consider yourself so assigned. Crusader, I've briefed Forgal on some options for your next mission. Speak with him, and then decide.”

“There are various tribal cultures that have asked for our assistance. There are the Hylek, the Skritt and the Quaggan. I'll leave the deciding to you.”, Forgal turned toward Sgileas.

“Hylek.”, Sgileas immediately replied. “I have worked once already with the Skritt, and I do not yearn for a repeat. The Quaggan's have such a slow pace and speech, I think my patience would wear thin.”

Forgal laughed. “Fair enough. The Hylek it is then. Meet me at the Lorantl Grounds.”

“Warmaster.”, Sgileas interrupted before Forgal could leave. Forgal looked at him over his shoulder and Sgileas wore no trace of a grin, smirk or smile. His face was earnest when he said, “Thank you. For your trust and faith in me.”

“I told you not to let that go to your head.”, grumbled the Warmaster and then, after a moment of hesitation. “It's my honor, Crusader. Now stop stalling, and head out.”

“At once, old man.”, Sgileas grinned and earned himself a grumble from Forgal's chest.

  
  


“We've got to tread lightly. These hylek are extremely suspicious of outsiders.”, Forgal warned him as they approached the Hylek. “We need to gain their trust. That means none of your grandstanding, youngster.”

Sgileas gave a dramatic sigh. “Whatever will I do with myself?”, he joked.

“Look sharp.”, the Warmaster shrugged.

“It is what I do best.”

Forgal groaned and rolled his eyes, but clearly found it funny enough that his mouth twitched.

“Please, my brother served with you for many years. Help me save him.”, a distraught Hylek pleaded with another.

“Your brother fought for the right to be our champion. Why would you take that honor from him?”, the other Hylek snapped and hopped away curtly. The distraught hylek dropped his head and only looked up when they approached.

“You there. We're from the Vigil, and we're here about the sacrifices. We heard you talking to that guard. Maybe we can help.”, Forgal offered.

“I don't know...but I do need help. My name is Ikniu, and my brother was our champion. He offered himself as a sacrifice to save our village. They say it is an honor...but the champions never return, and we just keep sending more. I want to rescue my brother before it's too late.”

“Maybe we can help each other. If you get us in to speak with your leaders, we'll come with you to save your brother.”, Forgal offered.

“I can do that. I'd do anything to have my brother back. Come this way.”, the hylek replied eagerly. “Follow me to the sacrificial grounds. My brother Sabiti will still be there. I pray we are not too late to help him.”

The sacrificial grounds looked little different to the surroundings and Sgileas only briefly wondered how this area had gained any kind of significance when he saw movement in the distance. The hylek, Ikniu, noticed it as well.

“Undead massing on our sacred sacrificial grounds? We must destroy them.”, Ikniu urged.

“This is why we need all races to work together against the dragons. If we don't, Zhaitan and the others will destroy us one tribe at a time.”, Forgal grumbled.

“No argument there.”, Sgileas agreed.

The undead were easy enough to deal with, even if Sgileas liked their essences very little. They felt foul, sour, a different kind of darkness that lingered and festered.

The tunnel ahead was large and dark, the walls damp from the sea air that drifted in from the west. Ikniu took the lead, eager as he was, and halted not a few feet after he had stepped inside. “There's my brother—no! What have they done to him?”

It was not a question directed at them, Sgileas realized when the Hylek rushed forward. “Stop him! That fool frog is gonna get himself killed!”, Forgal urged and cut through an Undead that tried to get past him.

Sgileas hurried after Ikniu, saw the Hylek pleading with his now undead brother, the undead hylek staring with dead, hallow eyes, the skin looked like it had been torn and reattached, the color drained like those of a water corpse.

“Step aside!”, Sgileas yelled at Ikniu and hoped for the sake of the hylek that he had heard. He jumped forward, in between the two hylek and cut with his scythe along the undead's hyleks body.

The hylek seemed unimpressed, the wound that opened its torso wide apparently no ordeal at all. The hylek opened its wide jaw, revealed a row of sharp, edgy teeth and a long tongue that darted forward.

Sgileas bend to the side and cut the creature's neck open, saw something flow from within onto its skin, but the liquid was dark, nothing like the color he had grown used to from the humans and charr.

The hylek would have continued to fight were it not for its severed head. The head flapped back, rolled onto the ground and just a second after, the body thumped to the floor.

Behind them Forgal appeared, cleaning his blade with a grim expression. “This... thing is not my brother.”, Ikniu finally brought out. “Help me collect its head. I'll carry it back to the village. That should convince the high priestess that our champions are being corrupted.”

Sgileas lifted the hylek head from the ground an Ikniu pierced it with his spear, impaling it on the sharp tip. When the hylek was satisfied it would not fall off he made his way back and Forgal watched with a shake of his head.

“Raven's beak, these hylek aren't slaves to sentiment, are they? I just hope this grisly keepsake is enough to convince the rest of the tribe.”

“It's irrefutable evidence.”, Sgileas noted.

The walk back his eyes were trained on the impaled head, and he knew that usually a sickening feeling should make him nauseous, that that should be the appropriate reaction, but he felt no such thing. Fascination, more like. The pragmatism Ikniu had displayed made the hylek a great degree more interesting than Sgileas had at first thought.

The guard at the entrance gave Sgileas and Forgal a credulous look, one Sgileas chose to ignore. The tribe leader looked shocked at the display as Ikniu approached.

“Now do you see? It's like I told you, our champions are returning as undead.”, Ikniu declared and rammed the spear into the ground, the head for all willing eyes to see.

“I see your proof, but the high priestess is not here.”, a hylek leader came forward to speak, the large body swaying from side to side as he – or she ? - did. “She's gone to prepare for the procession. She doesn't know Sabiti, and she's tired of hearing this from you. She'll say that head could be anybody's and dismiss you as a troublemaker.”

The Warmaster stepped forward. “We took it straight from the undead thing that Sabiti had become. What will it take to prove your sacrifices are actually making things worse?” The hylek leader only gave Forgal a blank look. “This is pointless. Come on. Ikniu. We'll have to find another way to convince your leaders.”, Forgal grit out.

Was faith so hard to discard when evidence was screaming right at their faces? How could they simply discard logic and evidence? _They_ knew this Sabiti, and as such could vouch for Ikniu in front of the High Priestess, yet nobody seemed to want to take that kind of task. And why? For faith?

“I wanted to confront the high priestess as well as Chief Quecuan. Since she's not here, we'll have to try something else.”, Ikniu grumbled as he collected the spear once more.

“What did you have in mind?“, Sgileas asked.

“I know where High Priestess Ecolotl will be. A procession is bringing her ritual supplies to her cloister in Lorantl Gorunds. They'll lead us to her and we can show her our proof.”

“Since preparations are underway, I take it we are in a hurry?”, Sgileas asked and Ikniu nodded gratefully.

“Come. I will show you the way.”

Following the Hylek without being spotted was easier than Sgileas had anticipated. They did not seem to think that anyone would even bother or dare follow them, and it was this arrogance that they could exploit.

Once Sgileas finally emerged form the cold water and stood in a small cave he was greeted with a tip of spear directed at his throat. He regarded the Hylek that held the weapon carefully. “I would lower that, if I were you.”, Sgileas warned.

“How did these outsiders gain access to our holy grounds?”, a hylek behind the guard asked. Thankfully Ikniu appeared behind Sgileas, with the head of his brother still impaled on the spear.

“Ikniu? What are you doing here? And by the Sun, is that Sabiti? Look...the champion's head. And it's completely corrupted.”, the guard said, voice turning fearful, and lowered the spear from Sgileas throat.

The High priestess wanted none of it. “I don't know how you got in here, but you cannot stay. This is a holy place. Leave, before I have you riddled with poison darts.”

“Not until we've had our say.”, Forgal interjected. “Those you sacrifice to the sunless ones become sunless themselves.“

“You've seen our proof.”, Ikniu added and gestured toward the head. “Your guards will tell you that this undead thing was once Champion Sabiti's head. You cannot deny it any longer. Tell the chief to stop the tournament. We must not send any more champions to join the ranks of the sunless.”

“But...may the Sun forgive me, it's too late. The tournament began when my entourage left the village. It's already over by now.”, the High Priestess confessed.

“Then we need to move quickly.”, Sgileas cut in. “The undead are massing for attack, and they won't wait forever. Gather your forces and meet us back at the village.”

The High Priestess seemed to accept that and nobody even dared to attempt to stop them as they left. If only these creatures were not quite as faithful, quite so...

“Those creatures are certainly stubborn. Dedicated, I mean. I may not like 'em, but I can admire that.”, Forgal grumbled as he was squeezing water from his pale white mane that now clutched his skull.

“There is something about mindless dedication that does not sit well with me.”, Sgileas shrugged. Forgal gave him a look, one Sgileas could not decipher and he frowned. “What is it, old man?”

“Your kind is dedicated to the Pale Tree.”, the norn dead-panned. Sgileas knew better than to bristle and feel insulted. In all this time that they had worked together Forgal had never even as much as hinted that Sgileas was a sylvari, no jokes about the fern atop his head, the bark that was his skin, nothing about using him as kindling. It was one of the many things that made Sgileas like the norn.

“She is the one who bears our conscience, who gives us knowledge, and she truly exists. If there is such a thing as divinity in this world, the Pale Mother would be it.” The faint scent of the Grove and the Omphalos chamber filled Sgileas nostrils and despite the fight ahead of them, he smiled reminiscently.

“You are devoted to her.”, Forgal noticed. “I don't think I have ever heard you dote about anyone like that, Crusader.”

Sgileas chuckled at that. “Not everyone gets to be on that special list.”

“You make it sound like its worthwhile to be on there.”, Forgal jested and Sgileas grinned at him.

“Admit it. You are just curious if _you_ are on it.”

“Pah.”, Forgal made. “I couldn't give a Dolyak's fart about that, kid. Come on, enough chit-chat. We have a few undead to smash. I was beginning to wonder if these Hylek would ever accept our help at all.”

“I was ready to put a few more heads on spears, if that's what it took.”, Sgileas shrugged.

“I know what you mean. If we had known it was a viable option we would have been done by now.”, the Warmaster muttered. 

Trahearne would have raised an eyebrow at Sgileas comment, whereas Forgal understood, and that was exactly why the two of them worked, why they had bonded, why Sgileas was beginning to see more than merely a high ranking officer, a warmaster – where he began to see a friend.

Perhaps, Sgileas thought as they waded through the water, Forgal had deserved a spot on his list a long time ago.

They arrived at the Hylek camp just in time to warn the inhabitants and send out scouts. After the Hylek scouts had left the gates closed and Sgileas let his gaze drift. “This is not a good position.”, he grumbled. “We are boxed in. If they overrun us then we will be cornered. We should evacuate instead.”

“We don't have time.”, Forgal muttered in argument. “Getting these Hylek to believe us took almost all day, just how long do you think getting them to leave everything behind will take?”

Sgileas bit back his remark about how they should not sacrifice themselves for such a moronically stubborn race and instead said, “Let us hope the Undead have not amassed as much as we fear.”

“Hah.”, Forgal made. “That is not the kind of luck we live with, Crusader.”

“We make our own luck.”, Sgileas said and grinned. “Luckily I am here.”

Forgal rolled his eyes. “Did they pat your head once too often? Perhaps you should have napped less, the Dream must have left you delirious.”

“Now, old man, that's just -” Sgileas never got to finish when the sound of undead rose behind the gate. Slurping, strangled noises and moans that echoed through the wooden gate.

“They are here!”, a Hylek at the gate called. The wood shuddered under a foreign force and they watched and waited in anticipation as the wood began to splinter and break apart, bit by bit, until undead starting pushing through the cracks.

The swarmed in, overwhelming the front lines completely. Sgileas heard the screams, essence already drifting into the air around him, but he paid them no mind – he gripped his staff and engulfed himself in shadow, spun the scythe as gracefully and widely as he could to keep the undead at bay.

It felt like an eternity, cutting at rotten, risen flesh, cutting off heads with bleached, pale eyes when an explosion rippled through the air and shook the ground beneath their feet. Sgileas stumbled and turned his head, saw that somehow an explosive had gone off behind them, evaporating the tents the Hylek had called come. 

Everything seemed aflame, the cloth of the tents serving as kindling and the flames surged higher and stronger, casting everything in a dancing ghastly light. Smoke filled the cave and Sgileas eyes began to tear.

“Watch your feet! These things are coming out of the ground!”, he heard Forgal roar over the battle and wondered what in the Tablet's name the norn was talking about when something snapped the feet from right under him.

The cave spun, everything turned and he landed on his back, a surprised noise tearing from his throat. He lifted himself immediately, saw a tendril that rose from the ground and snapped with a lithe, long arm toward him as if alive and of a free will.

He dodged, the tendril whooshing over his head and cut it in half. The undead kept swarming in and Sgileas called upon the shroud, the shade, the darkness. 

It engulfed his form, the darkness like a smoke screen and his staff cut around him, swirling and twisting once more. He had lost count long ago and found himself out of breath once the last Undead succumbed and fell to the ground.

The fire crackling behind them was the only sound for quite some time and Sgileas eyes wandered over all the bodies that piled up all around them. Forgal seemed unharmed except for a few scratches and a bite more on his arm. The Hylek were carrying their dead toward the flames, burning them to prevent them from turning into Zhaitan's minions.

“You OK there kid?”, Forgal asked and Sgileas nodded, tried to pretend that his lungs were not aching for air. Other than that he was uninjured, simply exhausted. The norn approached and Sgileas gestured toward the bite on his arm.

“Tried to get a piece of you, did they?”

“Who can blame them?”, Forgal shrugged, but all cheer that they had actually survived drained when the Hylek Chieftain approached them.

“Gone. Our homes, our hunting grounds, our breeding grounds, all gone. But it would have been worse without the Vigil.”

“ **T** his is just a sliver of the dragons' power.”, Sgileas insisted. “Unless we all work together, this will happen to all of Tyria.”

“Then send for me when you need allies against the dragons, and I will come. For my brother and my village, I owe you that much.”, Ikniu offered.

“You bet your happy hylek head.”, Forgal grumbled. “When the time comes, defeating the dragons will take every soldier we can muster. We're expected back at headquarters, but you frog folk have earned my respect. I wish you luck in finding your new home.”

Sgileas and Forgal waved them off and stumbled back through Bloodtide coast, bloodied and exhausted. The blood was thankfully not their own; it was Hylek blood, and whatever fluid the Undead had for such a thing.

“Mission accomplished, but we can't call this a complete victory. I hate to think what would happen if this happened to a major population center like Hoelbrak or Lion's Arch.”, Forgal sounded earnest and worried.

“They'll have to get through us first, and that won't happen.”, Sgileas reassured him.

“I like your attitude, but even we can't do this alone. Al least now we can count on some hylek support.”

“Some of it.”, Sgileas complained. Forgal did not deign to answer, but agreed. Some of it might not be enough, in the very end.

  
  


“Forgal told me what happened, Crusader. I'm proud that you saved so many innocents. You've shown the strength of your resolve. I'm promoting you to warmaster, effective immediately.“

It came as a surprise to Sgileas, that he had been promoted again, and so quickly. “Thank you, General.”, he bowed his head.

“I wish I could give you a proper ceremony before you go back in the field, but we have a critical issue at hand. People in Lion's Arch are disappearing without explanation. I need you both to look into it.”, General Soulkeeper ordered.

“With all due respect, General, isn't that a job for the Lionguard?”

“Ordinarily, yes, but some of the missing people are Lionguard. Worse, we've lost contact with one of our Vigil tacticians stationed there.”

“What areas should we survey, and what should we be looking for?”, Sgileas asked with a frown.

“I recommend you start with the sewers. That's where those Lionguard were last seen.”, General Soulkeeper suggested.

Sgileas eyes were trained on another Vigil member he had not seen before, and a sylvari that looked oddly familiar. He made a mental note to approach them when Forgal grumbled, “Sewers. How in the blazes am I going to fit in the sewers?”

“I've heard they're quite spacious. Don't worry, old man.”, Sgileas jested.

“Worry? I'm not worried—and if I was, I'd be more worried about the missing people, you young rascal.”

“We'll find them.”, Sgileas said determined and Forgal nodded.

“That we will. Meet me at the sewers, I'll already go ahead.” Without another word Forgal stomped out of the Vigil Keep, his boots almost thundering loud.

Sgileas approached the small asura, but before he could ask the Asura spoke, “I'm Warmaster Efut, the Vigil's foremost strategist. Forgal's spoken highly of you.”

He blinked in surprise, and then slowly his brain caught up. If this asura was a strategist, then surely she had anticipated that he might speak with her, and planned ahead.

“You plan ahead.”, Sgileas noted and earned himself a smile from the asura. “What has Forgal said about me?

“Well, just between you and me...he said you were the best hope we had against the dragons. Honestly, I've never seem him this impressed.”

“He's a good soldier, and...a good friend.” The word was strange on Sgileas tongue and lips, a word he never thought he would actually use. To put it out there into the world gave it a truth that his thoughts could never achieve.

“He seems to think the same of you, Warmaster. I think his words were, "the kid I should've had." Heh.”, the asura gave a short laugh.

Sgileas remembered that Forgal had lost his family to Jormag and his stomach twisted. That another would think so highly of him... Perhaps he was getting sentimental after all. To swallow and overshadow his emotions he decided to change the topic.

“Are you assigned here at Vigil Keep?”

“Yup. I've been creating secondary strategies in case of an attack on Lion's Arch. Never can be too careful!”

“Agreed. I won't keep you any longer, Warmaster.” The asura nodded and Sgileas was still chewing on the words the asura had said. Had Forgal truly said that about him?

Warmth spread in Sgileas chest. It was not only pride. It was fondness as well. The feeling pulsed gently, even as he approached the sylvari. “A familiar face.”, Sgileas joked with a smile.

The sylvari laughed. “Hello. My name is Laranthir of the Wild. I'm General Almorra's second in command.”

“Laranthir of the Wild? Aren't you one of the Secondborn?”, Sgileas asked.

“I'm flattered you know of me. I've traveled here to serve the Vigil, in the Pale Tree's name.”

“Is this your Wyld Hunt?”

“I've never been called to a Wyld Hunt...but I've heard of yours. Destroy the dragon? It's a joy to have you among the Vigil, but I do not envy your task. “

“I doubt anyone does, but I accept the challenge. The way will be difficult, but I will succeed. Hard ground makes stronger roots.”, Sgileas said and Laranthir gave him a knowing smile.

“Would that I could have your confidence, Warmaster.”, Laranthir said in awe.

Sgileas shrugged. “It's a gift, and something that can be trained. Like any muscle and finesse with a blade.”

“You have the truth of it.”, Laranthir agreed and Sgileas wondered if behind that smile the sylvari was already despising his arrogance, but if Laranthir did he showed no sign of it, which surprised Sgileas. “I heard of your mission, and I do not mean to keep you, but I was asked to give this letter to you.”

The parchment was weather worn, stains of rain and sand and dirt, but it was bound with a vine, and Sgiles knew immediately who it was from. His heart spiked in his chest and his throat suddenly felt tight.

“Thank you.” Sgileas took the letter.

“I wish you success on your mission, Warmaster.”

Sgileas nodded, the urge to open the letter demanding and compelling, but he held on to his restraint until he had left the Vigil Keep, away from watchful and curious eyes.

It was clear that the letter had been sent a while ago, that with Sgileas running around Bloodtide Coast Laranthir must have missed the chance to give it to him.

_Sgileas,_

_I hope this letter finds you well. Words of your success in the Vigil and the promotion to Crusader have reached my ears. Laranthir of the Wild has told me that Warmaster Forgal Kernsson speaks very highly and fondly of you and that the many tasks keep you very busy, and I am glad you are fitting in._

_There is still much to be done in Orr, but the Risen activity is stirring and I am currently investigating occurrences around the Orrian Shores. I can not be certain, but it would seem that the Risen are preparing for something larger. They have amassed in places and are constantly patrolling the area, making my task of observation very difficult._

_Be careful on your missions, and I wish you all the good fortune. May the Pale Mother bless you,_

_Trahearne._

Sgileas held the piece of parchment as though it was made from glass, fragile to even the lightest touch. The handwriting was beautiful, curved, graceful. He imagined Trahearne sitting at an old worn desk, a candle casting a dancing light over his form and the piece of parchment as the firstborns hand lay warm upon it, moving in elegant circles and curves as he wrote the words.

For some reason the image made Sgileas heart beat even faster and he felt his fingertips tingling with warmth. He made his resolve to answer even though he had never written a letter before.

He searched for the Vigil tower and the ravens, sat down at the desk in the lower level and gripped parchment and a pen. As he sat he bit his lip and slowly lowered the pen, ink dropping onto the parchment as his mind churned for what to say, whilst his eyes flashed toward the letter he had lain beside his own.

_Trahearne,_

_I am well and much has happened. The Vigil have received me kindly, and Warmaster Forgal Kernsson and I get along well. I am certain you would like him; he is stout, strong, and valorous. He's a gruff old bear, but I am very fond of him._

_As for our activities, we have ensured that the treaty between the human and the charr is not compromised and threatened and have gained the Hylek as a potential ally in the fight against Zhaitan. I was promoted to Warmaster and am proud of my success. There is still much to be done – as you well know, the work never truly ends._

_I have been to Orr only once and have seen what desolate place it is. With so many Risen in one place I imagine its dangers are even more prominent – so be careful. I won't forgive you if you leave me and Caithe to battle Zhaitan on our own._

_May the Pale Mother be with you and protect you,_

_Sgileas._

The raven gave him a curious look when he attached the message. “Bring this to Trahearne for me.”, Sgileas told the bird and wondered briefly if the animal would even understand, but its small, dark intelligent eyes sparkled.

It spread its wings wide, fluttered off into the air and then circled out toward the window where it disappeared on the horizon. Sgileas watched until he could not even see the black dot it had become, and then set out to meet up with Forgal, Trahearne's letter resting in a pocket right above his heart.

  
  


The Sewers announced themselves quite prominently due to the smell. Forgal looked grim, just like always and the idea to wade into this festered place did not please him the slightest. “There you are.”, Forgal grumbled. “Thought you slipped and broke your toe.”

“I should be insulted that you believe a broken toe would stop me.”, Sgileas answered.

“Spoken like someone who's never had a broken toe. Come on. These sewers are dangerous. All sorts of monsters could wash in from the sea. Stick together. Be ready for anything.” The air grew humid and thick the deeper they waded in, the water gushed at their feet. “Agh! This place stinks like an alehouse on free curry night.”, Forgal complained.

“I am not sure I envy you for having a comparison.”, Sgileas replied dryly.

It was quiet, except for their steps, and after a few minutes Sgileas could make out bodies floating in the water ahead. Upon investigation Forgal murmured,

“These Lionguard died fighting. Whatever killed them was powerful. The grate ahead is broken. We should check through there. Do you see something up ahead? Something moving?”

Sgileas lifted his head and squinted his eyes. Indeed, something was moving and shifting in the darkness of the shadows. At first they waited and then a Risen slurped forward, pale, dead eyes glaring at them from afar. It gave a screech and lunged at them and Sgileas thought idly that Zhaitan should employ the idea of implementing brains on its minions – perhaps its chances of success would not be as waning.

“This does not look like a normal Risen.”, Sgileas commented as he crouched down to inspect the body.

“I've only seen such a creature once before—at Port Stalwart, just before the Orrian dragon destroyed the town. Years ago. It's a special kind of scout for Zhaitan. If that creature's here, then there's an undead army advancing on Lion's Arch.”

“Wait — are you sure about that, Forgal?”, Sgileas asked and Trahearne's letter seemed to press tighter against his chest. Was that the suspicions activity the firstborn had mentioned?

“Dead sure. We don't have time to go back and report to Almorra, or even send for Vigil backup. We'll head for Claw Island to warn the Lionguard.” Forgal was already making his way back, barely waiting for Sgileas to catch up with his punishing pace.

“What's on Claw Island?” Sgileas hurried after then norn.

“The Claw Island fortress stands in the harbor of Lion's Arch. It's the last defense against invasion from the sea. If Zhaitan's going to attack the city, its minions will have to fight their way past the fort.”

“Trahearne said he noticed some strange activity on the Orrian Shores.”, Sgileas mentioned and Forgal furowwed his eyebrows.

“Ain't that the firstborn that keeps going back to Orr?”

“It's his Wyld Hunt to cleanse Orr form its corruption.”, Sgileas explained.

Forgal grumped. “No envy there. This fellow must be quite stubborn.”

Sgileas smiled. “Trahearne is much more than that. He was the very first to awaken, the first necromancer of our people, the first with a Wyld Hunt with a difficulty that parallels no other. He is the harbinger of change to this world, the first thorn in Zhaitan's side. He is a great inspiration and an idol, and I attempt to take a leaf form his book whenever I can.”  _Perfection_ , is what Sgileas had wanted to say, but held it back. 

“By Raven's beak, I was wondering if you'd never stop. This fella must be on that list of yours, the way you romanticize about him.”

“Romanticize? No, that-”, Sgileas quickly added and Forgal gave him a broad, warm smile, like he had caught him in a lie. “I am serious, truly -”

“Kid, don't worry. I could care less which way you swing, and I won't think less of you.”, Forgal soothed with a broad grin. “Just a small piece of advice from an old man: Just tell him. We do not live forever.”

Warmth spread through Sgileas body and he felt heat rise into his cheeks. Forgal had it wrong. All wrong.

But the beat of Sgileas heart disagreed and betrayed him and he gulped down the knot in his throat. When he placed a hand atop his chest where the letter rested in a pocket Forgal made no mention of the motion, and they moved toward the Lion's Arch docks in silence. 

His thoughts were churning, twisting, turning. Was there a truth to what Forgal had said? Was his admiration not simply platonic? When had emotions begun to twist and fester his admiration into affection?

Sgileas had seen Trahearne in his Dream. The firstborn had been magnificent, powerful, marveolous. Everything that Sgileas admired, and the second he had woken he had yearned for the firstborns approval. 

“ _We dreamed of one another. To be in a world without Eladus would have hurt worse than death.”_

The memory burned in his memory like a mark. It had been his very first task, the very first mission. Two lovers who had dreamed.

Even if Sgileas had dreamed, it did not mean Trahearne had. The firstborn was so many years older, so much more experienced, wiser. To dream of someone who came so many years after...Sgiles doubted that was possible.

With all of Sgileas determination and conviction, this was the first time he felt unsure. Insecure. The first time he did not know himself, did not know another. The first time he felt like someone floating out in an open sea with no shore in sight and the deep beneath threatening to swallow him whole.

Trahearne had only lectured him. Treated him like a child – and admittedly, Sgileas had acted arrogant because he knew so much, because he was more powerful than most, and Trahearne had saved him from the essence of the lich when his arrogance had nearly cost him his sanity.

How would a firstborn ever think of him as any more than a Valiant, a Sapling, a youngster green behind his ears? When he had acted as such?

The letter almost burned against his chest and he realized that without his notice, he had somehow fallen. That admiration had turned into affection, that idolization had turned into affinity. That in the time apart he had changed, that the time with the Vigil and Forgal had its effects on this part of him as well.

He was foolish. Utterly, completely foolish. An idiot. No, he told himself. He would not make a fool of himself. He would carry the feelings deep within, lock them away and who knew? Perhaps they would wither and he would not have to deal with the confusion that wrecked his heart and mind at all.

But a part of him, small and treacherous, told him that he was fooling nobody else. Nobody else but himself.

  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: Claw Island.  
> No spoilers, but get your tissues ready. Maybe a whole pack. Gosh, I already hate myself. >_<
> 
> Thank you for reading this long chapter. I appreciate all your support and leave a comment and/or kudo if you feel I deserve it. Less than three, ~S


	6. Sickness of Mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sobs* I am so sorry. *sniffs*  
> Forgive me. This chapter broke my heart, and was difficult to write. I can't say "enjoy" because that would be a humor to grim for me right now, so...  
> Bear with me. It will get better, I promise.

“The creature we found hadn't been in Lion's Arch long. We may still have time. We have to find the Watch Commander and convince him to ready the defenses. They built this fortress to last. Only a complete, full-bore invasion could break those walls.”, Forgal commented on arrival. 

The docks creaked underneath their steps, and various Lionguard watched them as they walked past. A Lionguard charr sniffed the air. ”I smell something odd. Do you smell it?”

“Smell?”, the human Liongaurd asked. “No. But the back of my neck keeps itching for some reason.”

“I don't like this. Something's definitely wrong.”, the charr grumbled.

Sgileas had similar feelings. His bark prickled with every movement, the essences in his staff impatient and anxious. Their anxiety was his, even though he had never feared in his life. He would not start now.

A ramp moved upward toward the large gates and the walls and two Lionguard Guards were watching two figures in the distance as they walked by, not even casting them a glance.

“Is that Trahearne up there, talking to Commander Talon? What do you think he wants?”, one Guard asked Sgileas looked closer, noticed that it was indeed the firstborn that was standing with a charr just ahead.

“Trahearne, the necromancer? Comes through here every few months on his way to Orr. That guy creeps me out.”, the other guard commented.

Pah, Sgileas thought. It was so predictable how the oblivious ones could fear so much. Trahearne was gentle and wise, there was nothing fearful about him at all. Granted, he held a power that Sgileas was sure was greater than the firstborn lead on, but Trahearne barely ever used it – because he knew the effect it had on people. Because he cared what others thought of him.

Thankfully Sgileas was already too far ahead to reply to the Lionguard, his eyes trained on the firstborn ahead. At the sight of Trahearne all the thoughts he had attempted to drown resurfaced again, his thoughts of affection and affinity, and wondered if they were true.

His heart sang to the words, beat harshly in his chest as though to give him an irrefutable answer. A deep breath filled his nostrils and he tried to calm himself.

“I've researched the situation extensively. The Orrians will strike here, on Claw Island.”, Trahearne was saying to the Charr and then the firstborn turned his head as they approached, noticed Sgileas for the first time.

“Sgileas.”, Trahearne smiled gently. “Thank the Mother Tree you are here as well.” the firstborn glanced at Forgal. “Is that you Forgal? Well met, old man! Are you still fighting for the Vigil?”

“By Snow Leopard's shadow, you're a sight for sore eyes. With you on our side, we've got a fighting chance.”, Forgal grinned and Sgileas knew right then that the two of them had already met and knew one another. “I've been trying to recruit Trahearne for years.”, Forgal admitted to Sgileas and he saw the norn's eyes sparkle.

“We are here because we have reason to believe that Claw island is in grave danger.”, Sgileas explained and turned toward the Charr. “Thank you for meeting with us, Watch Commander Talon. We have grave news. One of Zhaitan's minions breached the city. We destroyed it, but the creature was likely scouting for a much bigger force. An attack is imminent.”

“A what? That's extremely unlikely. We've seen no sign of an impending attack. If there was to be one, we'd know of it.”, Watch Commander Talon growled. 

“Commander Talon, I can confirm their information. Zhaitan's servants are indeed approaching. A fleet of Dead Ships has launched from the Straits of Devastation. The Risen sail beneath a cloak of stealth.”, Trahearne said gravely.

“Whatever you've seen, it can't be a real threat. Claw Island can withstand any assault! Speak with my commanders, Brakk and Mira. Once you review our defenses, you'll realize there's nothing to fear.” The Commander dismissed them and Sgileas took a deep breath to hold back his anger.

That no-good rust-bucket would turn a blind eye not only to the Vigil, but to Trahearne who studied Orr as a life's work? Who knew more about Orr than this wretched, fur-pestered losel ever could.

They made their way across the wide area that was surrounded by walls with trebuches and catapults, large missiles and other defensive machinery.

“Trahearne, you bookworm, tell me you've got some information on how to stop this attack?”, Forgal asked.

“Sadly, no. I'm only here to give the Lionguard a warning — much like you and Sgileas.”

“Well, at least you've come out from behind your scrolls and scribbles. That's a start. We need your common sense, lad. I'm glad you're here.”

Traherne chuckled at that. “If you don't mind, I'll accompany you on your rounds. It's been a while since I've toured the fortress.”

“Be our guest.”, Forgal grinned.

“Your letter reached me just an hour ago.”, Trahearne mentioned and Sgileas looked at him in surprise. He was still trying to discern exactly how he would deal with these new developments. “I had thought you were still angry with me after Mazdak the Accursed and had not even thought you might reply.”

“I am not resentful, Trahearne.”, Sgileas informed him. “If anything, your advice saved my sanity.”

Trahearne studied him carefully. “You have changed.”

“Where life goes, so too, should you.”, Sgileas recited and Trahearne almost beamed at him. It had been those very words that the firstborn had told Sgileas when they had departed.

“And have you thought about the questions I have asked?”

“I...”, Sgileas sighed. “I haven't, there hasn't been time.”

“I understand.”, Trahearne replied gently. “The answer will come to you, I am sure. The answer is different for all of us, but it defines a new perspective on life. Especially your own.”

Sgileas had nothing to reply to that and could see the curious glance Forgal was giving him, and Sgileas made a mental note to tell the norn about the questions later. They approached the small Asura deputy who was standing atop the walls, his eyes wandering up toward them.

“Be on alert. The Orrians are preparing a major attack against Claw Island.”, Trahearne warned.

“Tell the Watch Commander Talon that the gunnery emplacements are ready. The fortress here on Claw Island houses more 24-pounders than a ship of the line! We'll be ready to fight the Orrians. Don't doubt that. Check on Deputy Mira. She's in charge of the beach patrols.”, the asura said nonchalantly and they had no choice but to turn around and toward the beach.

“The Lionguard don't understand.”, Trahearne said in frustration. “This won't be a sortie. It'll be a massacre.”

“We are here to see to it that it does not happen.”, Sgileas tried to soothe.

“I doubt we will make the difference in this fight, Sgileas. I have only seen a glimpse of the Risen fleet, and I fear for all these innocent lives.”

“Is it that bad?”, Sgileas wondered in a low voice and Trahearne gravely nodded.

“It is like nothing I have ever seen.”

The human woman going by the title Deputy and the name Mira gave them a haughty glance as they approached. “Welcome to beach patrol, the most dangerous duty on Claw Island.”, she smiled.

“Deputy, a massive attack is on its way from Orr. You must prepare your troops.”, Trahearne urged, but the woman only smiled at him as though he was a deluded child.

“If we fall, our last order is to light those three signal towers. We have to warn Lion's Arch if the fortress is lost. In a hundred years, they've never once been lit. We're very proud of that.”

“Deputy Mira!”, a Lionguard yelled. “Sound the alarm, there are undead on the beach!”

Deputy Mira and her patrol as well as Sgileas, Trahearne and Forgal made their way toward a small group of Risen that rose from the water, running toward them in a frenzy of shrieks and cries.

They silenced them quickly and as they shethed their weapons Deputy Mira raised an eyebrow at Trahearne. “That wasn't much of a fight. Trahearne, I thought you said the attack would be significant?”

Sgileas made a sharp step forward, but Trahearne raised his hand in a pacifistic manner and gestured for him to stand down. “It was a feint.”, Trahearne explained to the human woman patiently. “They're testing your defenses. More will come, and soon.”

“Makes sense.”, the woman said, giving Sgileas a sharp look. “Report to Watch Commander Talon, and tell the men to be ready.”

The sand crunched beneath the soles of Sgileas boots and he bit the inside of his lip. These Lionguard were even ore prideful than the damned Hylek. Why would they not trust them? Did it truly hurt to be cautious? To light a damned tower just one in a hundred years, even if falsely? What harm could possibly come from it? A bit of shame? 

“I have studied Orrian creatures for twenty-five years, but I rarely engage in combat with them. It's terrifying.”, Trahearne murmured. “Do you think the commander will listen to us now?”

“Judging from the people he keeps as company, I very much doubt it.”, Sgileas grumbled. “They are all oblivious to the danger they are in, and we are not even certain if we can hold them back.”

“Even with all my research, we still know so little about defeating them.”, Trahearne agreed. “But we have to try.”

“A paltry attack. It barely ruffled our feathers. Is that all they brought?”, Watch Commander Talon laughed as they approached and Sgileas squinted his eyes in anger.

“There will be more. Much more. Keep watching the sea.”, Trahearne said.

“You're a scholar, not a general, firstborn. Why should we trust you?”

“Because he has seen the threat, perhaps?”, Sgileas finally burst out. “Because he has studied Orr for all his life? Because he actually bothers to come here to try and _convince_ your people that your lives are in danger? Do you think Trahearne a buffoon to make a joke such as this?”

“Sgileas, that's enough.”, Trahearne intervened and anger prickled under Sgileas skin. Shadows oozed from his skin into the air that disappeared like smoke. 

Watch Commander Talon gave him a cold, unimpressed glare. “Our defenses will hold. We are prepared-”

“The fortress is under attack! Ready on the wall! Hostiles incoming!”, Deputy Mira's voice yelled and cut through the air.

“There are too many! They've breached the wall! We're being over-”, Deputy's Brakk's voice died away and other noises began to mix in the air, a layer like miasma permeating the air. Small flies buzzed around them, a constant swarm that grew with each passing second and at the horizon, a dark cloud appeared that rose toward them as if on wings.

“They're catapulting abominations onto the western wall! Repel the invaders!”, Watch Commmander Talon ordered and rushed off.

“So many—the wind has grown stronger.”, Trahearne noticed, his eyes trailed up toward the sky. ”There's something in the clouds!”

Sgileas watched the sky as it darkened with each passing second and could see a shadow passing over the clouds. Something large.

“Be stalwart, Sgileas! We are all that stand between these monsters and the innocents in Lion's Arch.”

“They won't get past me.”, Sgileas vowed. “I'll watch your back, old man.”

The abominations crashed against the outer walls and waded toward the gate to break and tear it open, but Sgileas and the others intercepted them before they could reach. Even though they managed to cut them down, the air was hung with the scent and essence of death, but it was vile and evil, much like magic, and less like the natural ending of life.

“Lionguard Mira's squad is pinned on the shore!”, a voice called from atop the walls and Sgileas turned his head and rushed toward the shore. He found her lying face down in the sand, her fingers gripping at small weeds that grew in patches to pull herself forward.

Her squad lay around her in puddles of blood and she groaned when Sgileas picked her up. “I'm injured... bad. Get me to Talon. I don't think we can hold out this time.”

Sgileas bit back his remark of _Oh, now you see it?_ And carried her back into the momentary safety inside the walls. Watch Commander Talon seemed to have his hands full giving commands, but as soon as he saw Mira he hurried toward them. 

“Mira! How stand the beaches?”, Talon asked.

“Fallen, sir, and a lot of good soldiers with them. We have to light the watchtowers.”

“And let Lion's Arch think we've lost? No, Mira, not yet. Claw Island's withstood much worse. **”,** Talon shook his head and gestured toward Sgileas. “Get on a trebuchet. That Dead Ship in the harbor holds their reinforcements. Sink it!”

Sgileas growled, angry that the damned charr was still  _too_ proud to light the watchtowers and noticed with grim satisfaction that Talon shrunk back, just a little, even though Sgileas had not said a word. 

Without waiting for any other word Sgileas hurried toward the Trebuchet and aligned it, loaded it and shot the heavy missile toward the ship that was far out on the sea. For a few long agonizing seconds he waited, watched the stone fly through the sky in a calculated trajectory until finally it hit its mark and landed with a loud crash on the ship, sinking it instantly. 

His eyes trailed toward the side where he could see Forgal and Trahearne cutting down the last few Risen and stared toward the sky again. Whatever had flown over their heads, it was still there.

“We did it! It's sinking!”, Deputy Mira cried in cheer, but it all died on her face when the se churned, the water rippled and from beneath the waves more ships drew forth, bursting toward the surface. There were so many Sgileas could see them spread toward the horizon and his heart sank. “By the gods, there's so many of them...”, he heard her mumble.

Something swished over their heads and Sgileas had a sinking feeling in his chest. There was something powerful waiting just above, waiting for he perfect moment to strike.

“Talon, this is no normal attack! The Lionguard cannot hold! We're overwhelmed!”, Deputy Mira urged and Sgileas hurried back toward them, saw that the Risen had somehow managed to get into the plaza. Lionguard were fighting everywhere and he could make out the forms of Trahearne and Forgal approaching him from the distance. 

“Claw Island has stood for nearly a hundred years. It cannot fall!”, Talon replied stubbornly. “We'll fight them to the last soldier! To the last sword! We'll never surr—“

He was cut off when a Risen dashed toward him and Mira cried out when a blade cut deep into Talon's chest. The charr growled and cut the Risen down and then succumbed to his knees and Sgileas was with him in a flash, heard Trahearne and Forgal just behind him.

“Medic! We need a medic over here!”, Mira yelled and knelt down, turned her eyes toward the Commander. “Commander Talon, hold on. You'll be all right.”

“Quiet, Mira. Soldiers don't need lies. Retreat to the city. Tell the commodore...we did all we could...”

“By your will, Commander. I swear to you...this isn't over.”, Mira vowed.

“The island is overwhelmed. We have to evacuate the Lionguard and ignite the watchtowers to warn the city.”, Sgileas urged. They could not loose any more time.

“No. You'll never make it to the beacon with these Risen monstrosities chasing you. We'll have to fight our way back. The Lionguard will make a stand in the courtyard while you go for the tower. Gods willing, the Risen will be too busy fighting us to stop you.”, Mira suggested, determination flickering in her eyes.

“Your bravery is commendable, Deputy Mira, but your soldiers cannot survive a protracted battle against this many undead.”, Trahearne insisted.

“It's the duty of every Lionguard to lay down our lives to protect our city. If that's what it takes, that's exactly what we'll do. We'll rally in the courtyard. You light the warning beacons. Now, go!”

Sgileas did not waste any breath. Quick as a cat he dashed forward toward the stair, his eyes trailing up the path as he went. He heard the fighting growing distant behind him, swords clashing, growls and screams and wails, all mixed into a choir of agony.

He took two, three steps at a time, his chest heaving with every breath and turned a corner only to see a Risen glaring at him with pale eyes. He came to a halt surprised and barely ducked the hammer aimed at him, cut the Risen in half with his scythe.

He drew in a sharp breath and continued, noticed there were even more Risen already waiting ahead. Zhaitan had planned this thoroughly, had cut off the path toward the watch tower so they could not be lit – but Sgileas would not be stopped.

He cut a way through, every step aching, his legs already quivering when he finally reached the top and a large risen abomination waited for him. It looked similar to the ones he had fought before, but something about this creature made it look more lethal, deadly, dangerous.

Sgileas charged forward, dodged the swing of the massive club with a twist of his body and dashed between the creatures legs, grabbed the torch and threw it into the pile of wood. The fire came to life, a gust of wind making it burst into flame and Sgileas smiled triumphantly when he turned -

and the club hit him square in the chest.

His body felt strangely light as he flew backwards, saw the railing where his feet were and crashed down a few feet below onto the stairs, rolled down a couple of them before his body halted.

Everything felt broken inside him and he gasped at the pain, moved his hands and legs, arms and head, but everything seemed intact and he forced himself onto his feet.

“Orr....”, the abomination slurped and came toward him in an agonizing slow pace, club in hand. It bent low and then charged forward, down the stairs toward him with a sudden burst of speed.

Sgileas had barely gotten to his feet and stumbled backwards, but the abominations shoulder crashed into him and knocked him against the wall. He felt the pain before he heard the snapping noise from his rib-cage and cried out in pain, the air pushed form his lungs and when the weight lifted his body fell to the floor.

His head swam and the stairs pressed uncomfortably into his side and he saw the abomination above him lift the club behind its shoulder for one last strike and he grit his teeth, clutched his chest and felt the letter underneath his fingers, wondered if this was all that he was to be.

A cry tore through the air and Sgileas saw a flash of white and gray, vigil armor and then his brain finally supplied that it was Forgal that had buried his two aces into the abominations belly, tearing it wide open.

The creature stumbled back onto its knees and with one last thrust and with a cry Forgal cut its throat, dark blood splattering across the stone stairs. Sgileas forced his body to obey and stood on shacking feet, felt two strong hands pull him up.

“You alright, kid?”, Forgal asked and Sgileas nodded hazily, the pain making his head swim.

“Yeah. I lit the brazier.”

“I can see that. But nobody told you to get yourself killed.”

Sgileas gave a short laugh and then grimaced at the pain. “I am fine. Thanks for pitching in, old man.”

There was a loud roar that vibrated from the sky and from where they were standing Sgileas could see a creature burst from the sky, larger than anything he had ever seen. It looked like a risen dragon, with large, leathery wings that were torn, skeleton showing beneath pale, bleached skin that stretched tauntingly over what remained of its flesh. Its eyes were sunken in, sockets of glowing green and a jaw with an array of sharp, deadly teeth.

“By the Spirits! I never thought I'd see one of those!”, Forgal beside him breathed. “Come on, kid. We have to get down there.”

Sgileas ignored the pain, ignored his body that screamed at him. The Lionguard were fighting valiantly against the massive dragon, but with their dwindling numbers they stood no chance.

They barely made it past the Risen and the volley of attacks and reached the line they had made at the gate. Thankfully Trahearne was there as well and Sgileas was glad the firstborn was alright.

“Sgileas!”, Trahearne exclaimed and rushed toward him. Sgileas had slung an arm around Forgal's shoulder, stumbling forward. Or rather, with how large and broad Forgal was, the norn had all but carried Sgileas down here. His leg felt like it was on fire and with every breath he noticed the pain in his chest and the corruption that hung heavy in the air.

“I am fine.”, Sgileas grit out and Trahearne gave Forgal a grateful glance. Sgileas pulled away from Forgal and looked up at the dragon that was pushing them back.

“The dragon's servants will never let our ships sail. If they surround the docks, they'll slaughter us—and Zhaitan's forces will grow.”, Forgal noticed grimly.

“Our soldiers are too injured to fight and the Lionguard spread too thin. They can barely walk. We can't form a defense and still get them all aboard.”, Sgileas grit out. “We have to hold them off so they can escape.” Sgileas surprised himself with what he had said – that he was willing to sacrifice himself for all those that could escape, but he found no argument from within. Only a content, sinking feeling at the acceptance of his own death.

“A heroic but nearly impossible task, against great odds and an unrelenting enemy. This, my friend, is a death worthy of legend.”, Forgal agreed and looked at the dragon with determination. **“** Get the wounded to safety. Warn Lion's Arch. One day, you'll come back and retake this island—of that, I have no doubt.”

Sgileas eyes widened when he realized what Forgal meant. “No!”, he protested. “No, Forgal, you can't hold them off alone. Together we can! We can do this together!”

Forgal suddenly stood before him, placed two large, strong hands on Sgileas shoulders. There was something deep in his eyes, a fondness Sgileas had never realized had been there. It made him feel like he was drowning.

“I lost my mate and children to the dragons. I thought my legend was buried with them, that I had no one to walk in my footsteps and tell my tale. But I was wrong.”, Forgal explained and Sgileas fought the knot that constricted his throat and chest. “You are too powerful to fall into the hands of the dragon, and I will not let the dragon have your life, my friend. The world needs you, Tyria's people need you. If the time with you has shown me anything, then that you will be the one to kill Zhaitan and put an end to all of this.”

“Forgal, you can't -” Sgileas voice broke. It had never done that before and Forgal smiled sadly when Sgileas eyes filled with tears.

“Thank you for being my legacy. I imagined that perhaps the Spirits were kind, and that you were meant to be the son I never had. Tell my tale at the hearth fires, where the skaalds sing of heroes. Be kind and strong, kid.” The great norn paused just once more before he erected himself to full height and his large hands lifted from Sgileas shoulders. “Now go. I will not fail.”

“Forgal, no!”, Sgileas cried and reached out with his hand, grasped at the hem of Forgal's robe and the norn turned around. The second they stared at one another stretched into an eternity and Sgileas realized that he could not change Fogal's mind, that the norn would do exactly as he had said. Sgileas grit his teeth and finally brought out as he blinked the tears viciously away. “You are on that list, Forgal.”, he whispered and the norn smiled.

And then Forgal pushed him back. The force startled Sgileas and he stumbled backwards, landed on his back and looked up at the norn in surprise, saw Forgal raise an axe and then, with so much force that even the stone beneath broke, the chain that held the gate open snapped.

The gate shut with a loud, thundering noise right in front of them and Sgileas could only stare at where his friend had stood, at where Forgal had disappeared behind the heavy wooden gates.

It would not get into his brain. It was stuck somewhere else, his senses perhaps, but he could not comprehend what had happened – what would happen.

“Sgileas.”, a voice said and he turned his head slowly in a daze, looked up toward Trahearne. The firstborn looked infinitely sad, and only then did Sgileas realize that this was reality, that this was really happening, that this was no dream or nightmare. “We have to get the others to safety. The ship's waiting, but we do not have much time.”

Trahearne's arm grasped beneath his own, pulled him to his feet. It all seemed to swim and Sgileas felt like he was dreaming, like nothing made sense, and he fought the thoughts that pushed into his brain telling him that Forgal was as good as dead.

He found strength in purpose. He walked again and led the others toward the ship, barely registered boarding the ship himself until the wood creaked beneath his soles and rocked against the water to the sides, was swaying from side to side.

And Sgileas stared into the distance toward Claw Island that was swallowed by a dark cloud, the corruption completely turning the air into a thick veil.

“We have to warn Lion's Arch.”, he heard a voice behind him and turned his head. In a corner, together with Deputy Mira who was wearing a blindfold, sat Watch Commander Talon.

Sgileas had not realized he had strode towards the Charr, barely even registered the feeling of flesh and fur under his palm as he lifted the charr and pushed him against the wooden railing.

“If you had listened, none of this would have happened!”, Sgileas screamed at the Charr. “If you had swallowed your pride, if you had only for once forgotten how self-important you are, Forgal and the others – they would be alive!”

The charr looked terrified, the shadows that rose from Sgileas skin trailing into the air like dark, long and thin arms. Sgileas gripped a little harder.

“Forgal died to safe your miserable hide, your miserable life.” Sgileas lifted his other hand. Anger curled in his belly, fury and frustration. This charr was responsible for all these deaths. For Forgal's sacrifice. Sgileas growled deeply in his chest, wanted to stab his hand forward that was engulfed in a shadow blade when a hand snapped around his wrist and held it in place.

Sgileas turned his head and saw Trahearne, eyes full of empathy and sorrow and everything inside Sgileas seemed to shatter. The hand that had held the charr loosened and the body thudded to the floor where he heard Talon catch his breath. There was an eerie silence on the deck and Sgileas shook his head, wanted to push it away, wanted to forget.

Forgal could not be dead. He would make it out alive, somehow, would find a way. His one friend could not be gone from this world. It could not be. “Sgileas.” Trahearne's voice was like that of someone speaking to a wounded, dying animal. Soft. Warm.

Sgileas shook his head more, the wrist Trahearne's hand engulfed lowering slowly. “I can't-”, Sgileas brought out, but the words died in his mouth and tasted like ash. He fought within, a battle he was not sure he could win. One part of him wanted to kill Talon, to suck the life from him and absorb the essence, to torture it slowly and infinitely.

The other wanted to succumb. To drown in the sea of sorrow that washed from his chest, the sharp shard of reality that pierced his hazy mind and reminded him exactly what this battle had cost them – and him specifically.

He felt hazy, dizzy, exhausted, nauseous. The world seemed to spin as he fought the urges, when he wanted to keep standing on his two legs, just for the sake of standing. But the world continued to spin and he felt a cold creep into his hands and feet, like a sheet of ice that coated his insides and gripped him tightly in a chilly grasp.

When his body swayed he heard someone call his name, but it was all far away and distant. Perhaps that was for the best. To be far, far away. Far away from the truth. From the hurt. From the Pain. And from the sorrow.

  
  


Sgileas body was engulfed in shadow, the essences from his staff threatening to swallow him whole. Trahearne cast the staff aside where it clattered loudly on the deck and heard the defiant screams of the essences, but did not care for them.

The necromancer's mind had slipped into unconsciousness and even though Trahearne was surrounded by Lionguard nobody dared to approach because they feared. Sgileas hand felt icy cold to Trahearne's touch and he lifted Sgileas head, careful not to overextend his neck.

“Sgileas.”, Trahearne called, but there was no sign of movement in Sgileas features. The shadows oozed from his skin, permeating the air around him. The powers drifted over his bark in an attempt to keep their master safe even when he was unconscious.

Trahearne lifted his eyes and searched among the Lionguard that watched for anyone with any strength left to help him.

“Help me carry him below.”, Trahearne asked a Lionguard whose one arm was in a cast, but looked otherwise uninjured. “I fear for your safety if he remains on deck.” It was not even a lie – if Sgileas shadows deemed any of them a danger, they might find themselves fighting with an instinctive and primal force that Trahearne was not sure he could keep at bay.

The Lionguard helped him reluctantly and Trahearne urged the medic to free a cabin. It was small, austere, minimalistic. A bed, a stool, a desk and a small shelf in the corner. Large enough to barely maneuver without bumping into anything.

Sgileas body sunk into the cushions beneath and as soon as the fabric touched him, a sheet of ice began to coat it and grow, flowing over the sheets toward the wooden ends of the bed and the wall. The necromancers breath was labored, a sheen of water glistening on his forehead, eyes twitching as though from a mental fight and fever.

Trahearne watched in dismay when the cold in the room grew, when the ice began to coat everything around them. The Lionguard looked apprehensive and made a few uncertain steps toward the door. “Tell everyone that nobody is to enter.”, Trahearne urged. The Lionguard nodded and disappeared.

Sgileas forehead was burning, but his hands were cold. So icily cold Trahearne wondered if they could have ever been warm to begin with.

“Hold on, Sgileas.”, Trahearne murmured. “For your life.”

The shadows danced over the skin, deeming Trahearne as not threatening. They clutched at Sgileas like a child did to a mothers hand. The ice cracked around Trahearne from time to time and the gentle rocking and creaking of the ship were the only motion and sound he heard for quite some time.

The window showed that the sky turned lighter and they would soon reach Lion's Arch, but Trahearne did not know if Sgileas would be able to leave the ship if they managed to take him to the Grove to heal.

He heard the movement above the deck, noticed the ship had stopped moving, but his eyes were trained on Sgileas, his mind searching for a solution to this problem.

A few minutes passed by when suddenly there were footsteps outside the door and Trahearne lifted his head when the door was opened and Caithe stood in the doorway, her eyes trailing over the walls in shock.

“What is this?”, she breathed.

“It is Sgileas.”, Trahearne answered. “The essences corrupted him when grief took him.”

She entered carefully and the shadows made a hissing noise, lashing out toward the side. “I take it I am not well-liked.”, Caithe muttered. “I heard what happened at Claw Island and came to assist – but I am too late, am I not?”

“The dragon struck a fatal blow at Claw Island.”, Trahearne said. “Lion's Arch needs to be ready once the Dragon's army arrives. We can not let the tragedy repeat itself.”

When Caithe approached closer to stand beside where Trahearne was sitting the shadows lashed out at her and she stepped back out of range. “There is nothing I can do here.”, she said. “But I can warn Lion's Arch and see to their defenses. The Lionguard would profit from your knowledge, brother.”

“I do not know what will happen if I leave.”, Trahearne confessed. “If the powers are not appeased, they might bring havoc from within.”

Caithe nodded slowly, even though she barely understood any of the Necromancer's abilities. “Is it possible he could turn to Nightmare?”

Trahearne answered only reluctantly. “Yes. It is.”

“Then be careful, brother. You will need to be ready for that possibility.”

“He is stronger than that.”, Trahearne argued.

“I hope so.”, was all Caithe said and left the cabin, closing the door with a final note. The cold was seeping into Trahearne's skin and he lifted his hand almost idly, touched Sgileas fingertips.

The fingers twitched at the touch and with a gentle, coaxing movement Trahaearne fit his palm against Sgileas and held his hand, gave it a warm squeeze. Sgileas fingers twitched and curled around his own, not even strong enough to actually hold, but it was a substantial response of the body. It meant that Sgileas registered Trahearne's presence, and that as such he was not lost. Not yet.

It had been a blow, one that had torn everything in Sgileas apart. He had woken with a power that was beyond what Trahaerne had encountered before, had been so confident in his abilities and his prowess that he had won each battle. Except the Battle at Claw island, and this battle had cost him dearly.

It had cost him the shroud of invulnerability, had shown him that he too could be injured, that he too was not strong enough to stand against Zhaitan alone. That with all his power even he was powerless to stop a foe like Zhaitan.

That with that realization he had to sacrifice his mentor, his friend in order to escape to live another day. That Sgileas had not been strong enough to safe him. Too worn. Too exhausted.

It was only natural that such a great loss would cut into Sgileas like this, that it had overwhelmed him completely with grief and sorrow, emotions that he had otherwise not known or shown. Emotions that had pushed and surfaced with such a force that Sgileas had been helpless to stop them.

In that regard he was but a child. A child that had grown too much, too fast, that had skipped over all the small things of life, over wonder and awe, over friendship and loss. Had dismissed emotions as a liability.

And now he was fighting. Not just the influence of the essences that had taken advantage of his weak state. He was fighting a battle within, a battle between heart and mind. A battle that would decide which side would survive, and which would not.

The heart could not possibly win, Trahearne realized. It was not strong enough, not potent enough to win against Sgileas mind that was cold, efficient, mighty. And Trahearne wondered that if the mind won if Sgileas would ever allow anything in again, if the world would be just shade's between black and white, where feelings were nothing but a distraction. The Nightmare would find him easily then. It would be an open door and swallow him whole eagerly.

Trahearne leaned down, his elbows resting on his thighs and watched the rhythmic movement of Sgileas chest as he breathed. He squeezed Sgilea's hand tighter.

“Don't give up.”, Trahearne murmured, even though he was not sure Sgileas could hear him. “Grieve, be in pain, but do not shut it out. Don't pretend that it does not hurt – because you are allowed to hurt, allowed to feel anguish, allowed to be a feeling sylvari.” The words spilled from him, encouragement, all the wisdom he had acquired over his many years and journeys. There was simply no way he would accept that Sgileas was lost. If Sgileas fought, then so too would he. “Feeling is not weakness. Compassion gives us strength, it makes us whole. It takes more strength to allow the pain than to walk away from it. Walking away is easy. Be strong, Sgileas. Be strong. Hold on.”

Sgileas shuddered and turned his head, his breath hitched and his hand squeezed Trahearne's tightly. Trahearne mirrored it and gripped it, held it steady and secure. Only after a few seconds did Sgileas body relax again and Trahearne could only watch and knew that his vigil was only starting.

  
  


“ _And why do you reckon we possess such a calling?”, a voice asked in the darkness._

“ _Why do you think our race possesses it, whilst other races search for their purpose their entire life?”_

_ I don't know, he answered. How would I know?  _

“ _The Wyld Hunt is a tightness in your chest and a buzz in the back of your head, an itch that you can't scratch. You can not stop thinking about what must be done. It gnaws at you and climbs your soul like a parasitic vine. It is sacred and most holy, and any sylvari would gladly give their life in pursuit of it.”_

_ His Wyld Hunt was important. It was part of him, part of his core, his heart, his soul. Every second he did not spend in pursuit of it his life felt wasted – so why?  _

_ Killing Zhaitan was his Wyld Hunt. Why would he die for such a task? _

_ Because Zhaitan had killed countless innocents since he had awakened, because he brought them back as his undead army, because it had taken Forgal. His friend, Forgal, the great valorous, brave and virtuous norn. _

_ Zhaitan threatened all of them. The lives of all those on Tyria, and none would be spared if he did not step up to stop him. So what was he fighting for?  _

_ The Wyld Hunt was not the answer. The Wyld Hunt was the question. Why was the Wyld Hunt compelling him to fight an Elder Dragon?  _

_ I was gifted with power, he thought. I awoke with knowledge and power and confidence that I would easily succeed, yet I have failed. I have failed and lost my friend.  _

_ As have others, a voice reminded him. Forgal before you; he lost his wife, his children. He continued fighting for those that could not fight for themselves, to avert the tragedy from every happening again. _

_ It sparkled, warm and white. It was suddenly so clear, so perfect, illuminated and exalted. The his Wyld Hunt existed not for him, that he did not exist for himself, that his powers were not for himself. _

_ That his powers were for all those that had none. That he would have to be rock and stone where water threatened to tear away every home. His Wyld Hunt existed so he would learn to see the world as a whole, so he would cherish and love it and protect it. _

_ His Wyld Hunt existed for the world. To protect it. To protect all those upon it. Because the world needed them, because it cried out in anguish. Because the dragons brought destruction and corruption whenever they woke and wherever they tread – and the Wyld Hunt was the answer to the cry of Tyria. It was the answer to a plea from the world itself.  _

“ _I will protect it.”, he vowed. “On my life, I will protect Tyria and all those that live upon it.”_

  
  


Sgileas blinked his eyes open – and was never the same again. 

  
  


 


	7. Equilibrium

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter explains the title, even though I am sure some of you already figured out why this series is called "Stones in a Glasshouse". ;-)  
> This is also where the dynamic between the two finally starts, and they begin to catch feelings, if you get my drift.  
> Enjoy!  
> And thanks so much to putonlevis and Wydra for your lovely comments! You gave me the motivation to grab a cup of coffee and finally write that next chapter! I love you guys!  
> Lessthanthree, ~S

Sgileas blinked a few times, did not know the surroundings. “Sgileas.”, a voice called beside him and he turned his head. Why did his head feel so heavy? His eyes burned and his chest and leg ached with a pulsing pain.

Sgileas eyes met those of the firstborn, Trahearne, and it only added to the confusion. “Trahearne.”, Sgileas croaked and when he tried to lift his arms he noticed he had no strength in them, and that something was keeping his hand in place. Warm fingers grasped his hand tighter and he let himself sink into the cushions. “Where-?”

“We are on a ship.”, Trahearne explained.

It was only slow, but the memories came rushing back without mercy and Sgileas eyes turned glassy. He fought the swell of emotions that rose in his chest and his heart beat in an agonizing pace, his lungs demanding more air when he began to gasp.

Trahearne's other hand grasped his shoulder and gave it a tight squeeze. “Don't fight back. It's alright.”

“Alright?”, Sgilesa grit out as tears filled his eyes. “How is this alright?”

“It is alright to be in pain.”, Trahearne soothed. “Don't shut it out. Feel it, let it engulf you – or it will haunt and torment you forever.”

Sgileas forced himself to sit up and shook his head. “I don't-”, he grit out, but the tears made his vision swim and his body tensed when he fought them, but his body betrayed him.

A sob escaped his throat and a tear trickled over his cheek and he felt ashamed for this display. How could he let these emotions overwhelm him? And in front of Trahearne? He sat on the bed and felt cold and angry, angry at himself that he was this weak.

An then Trahearne leaned forward, one hand pulling gently on Sgileas' neck. Sgileas body obeyed without any resistance and his head fell against Trahearne's shoulder, the hand he held squeezed in a tight, firm grip. An arm slung around his back and pulled him closer, and in the warmth of the embrace Sgileas forgot to be ashamed. Forgot to be angry. Forgot that any of that had mattered at some point in time.

His free arm rose to clutch at Trahearne's back and held on tightly when another sob broke free and his body began to shake and his tears flowed freely from his eyes. He could not control the tremble of his chest, the pitiful sounds that escaped his throat, the grip on Trahearne's back and hand.

It washed over him, the grief, the sorrow, the anguish, and when Trahearne held him throughout he realized that this was alright, that he need not be ashamed, that Trahearne would not think him weak.

He did not count the minutes. He forgot to care at all for the time and place. All that mattered was the ache of his heart that yearned to yell out to the world how much in pain it was, how much this failure had cost him and that he had nobody else to blame but himself.

Trahearne did not let go. Not even once did his hold lessen, not once did he twitch or turn away. He was the stone in the surf that Sgileas clung on to as the emotions washed him away.

And slowly, ever so slowly, his tears lessened and dried on his cheeks. His sobs faded and stopped, and his body resigned to the exhaustion. He felt hollow, empty, like something had been torn from his chest. It was difficult to believe that he had ever felt whole at all.

Sgileas was selfish in this very moment. Even though his body had resigned, had cried all the tears it could, he would not let go of Trahearne. He held on and even leaned in further into the warmth of the embrace, felt Trahearne's grip tightening in response. His head rested against Trahearne's shoulder still and he muffled against the robe, “I am sorry.”

“There is nothing you have to apologize for.”, Trahearne whispered close to his ear. “I am grateful that you have chosen to return, that you chose to feel. I was afraid...”, the firstborns voice broke briefly, and the grip tightened even more. Sgileas did not mind. “I was afraid you'd fall into Nightmare.”

“Never.”, Sgileas said. “I'll never turn to Nightmare.”

Trahearne nodded and Sgileas felt part of the firstborns ferns tickling his temple and cheek. He breathed contently and noticed the scent of the Grove lingering on Trahearne's skin, and something mixed beneath that was entirely his own. The scent of spring and freshly blooming flowers. “It is not over.”, Trahearne warned in a low voice. “The pain will cease, but only slowly. You will need to be patient with yourself. It will fade away and you will be stronger because of it.”

Sgileas barely dared to ask and opened his mouth, gulped the words down and then tried again. “Will...Will you help me?”

“Of course.”, Trahearne answered without hesitation. “I will be here for you.”

Sgileas fear of rejection drained and he buried his face deeper into Trahearne's shoulder. “Thank you.”, he all but whispered, but Trahearne heard and smiled. A long road lay ahead, he knew, but he was certain that Sgileas would make it. That after all this time, perhaps the part of his Dream would finally come true.

Finally Sgileas lessened his grip and leaned back and Trahearne let him, the distance making both their bodies feel cold. The ice that had risen on the walls and ceiling cracked and began to melt away, a drop of cool water dripping atop Sgileas head and he craned his neck.

“What is this?”, he asked almost breathlessly as he watched the ice melting, retreating back from whence it came. The bed was engulfed in a sheet of cold white that was thawing as well.

“Your grief made you vulnerable to the essences you collected. When they tried to overwhelm and overpower you, your necromantic abilities kept them at bay – and protected you.”

“To think my own creation would turn against me.”, Sgileas mumbled.

“It is difficult to find the balance. The essences empower you, but too many might overwhelm you. You will have to be more careful in the future.”

At some point in time Sgileas would have bristled, would have felt offended that Trahearne had indirectly scolded him again, but right now he had no strength for such a thing, and he did not feel that it was necessary at all.

Since the moment he had been in the Dream he has yearned for nothing more than Trahearne's acceptance and approval, for his praise, and yet Sgileas had been rebellious, insisted that he had done what was right – and inherently disappointed Trahearne. An rebellious act of youth, a stone thrown in a glass house that had only hurt himself.

He was not sure if he knew better now. He felt exhausted and weak, nothing like the time he had Awakened, or even before the battle at Claw Island. “I will.”, Sgileas murmured.

Trahearne watched him, could see how broken down Sgileas was and slowly pulled an envelope from his robe he had received a few hours ago, a letter from General Soulkeeper. “This arrived for you.”, Trahearne said and held out the piece of parchment.

Sgileas looked at it for a few seconds before he brought his legs over the side of the bed and grasped it, ignoring the pain that shot up from his leg.

_Warmaster,_

_News of the death of mighty Forgal has been a blow to us all. I am deeply saddened to hear of it, and I know you must be suffering. But now, with Zhaitan on our shores and the city of Lion's Arch threatened, the Vigil is needed more than ever. We are regrouping at Fort Marriner, to lend our efforts to the city's immediate defense. Your orders are to rendezvous there and lead a contingent of soldiers into battle._

_The Vigil needs your courage; Tyria needs your knowledge of our enemy's weaknesses. Be strong._

_\- General Almorra Soulkeeper._

“ _Be kind and strong.”,_ Forgal's voice said in his head and Sgileas took a deep breath. “It's General Almorra. She is requesting my aid at the Fort.”

Sgileas made to stand and Trahearne skid backwards with the chair to give him some room and then stood as well. “Are you sure you are well enough to travel?”, Trahearne asked.

“It doesn't matter.”, Sgileas answered. “I will not sit idly by and watch. I will not let what happened to Forgal happen again.” He thought about what Forgal would do, and the norn would never let a chance to help the vigil or Tyria slip through his fingers.

“I will accompany you.”, Trahearne offered. “If you do not mind.”

Sgileas eyes were still distant, far away, glassy. The life that had once been in them had not yet fully returned. “I will need your help.”, he confessed. “When I was unconscious your voice broke through. I heard you. And...”, he took a deep breath. “I think I know the answer, now.”

Trahearne looked surprised and then his eyes softened. “That is good to hear.”, he smiled.

Sgileas waited and then asked, “Are you not...curious what it is?”

“The answer was never meant for me.”, Trahearne replied. “It was a question only for you, and the answer too is entirely your own. Who would I be to judge you?”

All this time Sgileas had worried. That his answer would be unsatisfying, that he would disappoint Trahearne, and suddenly he realized that such a thing had never existed to begin with.

Trahearne had only ever meant to guide him. There had been no disappointment, only sadness whenever Sgileas had tread from the right path, but he had left him to do so, only gently nudging him in the right direction.

Sgileas met Trahearne's eyes for a few long, agonizing seconds. “Thank you.”, he murmured. Trahearne nodded and Sgileas took it as a sign and made his way toward the door, his leg hurting enough to make him limp slightly.

Trahearne watched the pain cross over Sgileas features and the sway of his body with every movement, but despite the pain and discomfort Sgileas set a fast pace that even he on healthy legs had trouble to follow.

Unconsciousness was a door to many mysteries, and Trahearne wondered what it had been that Sgileas had seen. What kind of answer he had found. But even though he did not know for sure, he could see clear as day that Sgileas was not the same. That where his tenacity and cool sagacity had been there was something soft and warm. Something kind. Not necessarily sentiment, not sympathy. But it was a determination born from Forgal's sacrifice.

Sgileas limped over the Vigil grounds and various Vigil member turned their heads toward him, some even saluted him and dropped their gazes. Sgileas nodded towards them, a gesture he understood, and made his way briskly toward General Soulkeeper.

“General.”, he said and the Charr glanced at him from the conversation with another warmster. Immediately she moved toward him.

“At ease, Warmaster. I heard what happened at Claw Island. The Lionguard — no, the whole city — owes you a debt of honor.”

“I deserve no such thing.”, Sgileas replied and squinted his eyes. “It was Forgal who was the brave one. He gave his life to save us. He gave us the chance to fight another day.”

General Soulkeeper's eyes were softer than usual. “He will be remembered as one of the Vigil's great heroes, and he will be dearly missed.”

“Forgal's sacrifice held them back, but it was your bravery that led us to safety, my friend. I am grateful to you.”, Trahearne suddenly said and Sgileas frowned his eyebrows at the firstborn. He did not remember doing anything heroic. After the gates had shut everything in his brain had refused to work. He remembered seeing undead that had stood in their way of escape, remembered boarding the ship, but nothing in between. “Zhaitan's overconfident, assuming Claw Island was the only thing standing between its army and Lions Arch. If I can aid in this defense, Warmaster, I'm at your service.”

Why was Trahearne addressing _him_? Was was he looking at _him_? He was not the one to make the call for anything. But Sgileas knew it had nothing to do with the Vigil, or the fight. It was Trahearne repeating _“I will be here for you.”_

Zhaitan would attack Lion's Arch and the Vigil would stand against it, together with the Lion Guard. And it was Forgal's sacrifice that allowed Sgilead to be here and Sgileas vowed to himself that he would not let Lion's Arch fall to Zhaitan.

“We will show the dragon how wrong it was.”, Sgileas vowed and Trahearne smiled.

“You took out enough of Zhaitan's forces to stop the imminent attack on Lion's Arch, but the dragon won't pause for long. There are reports of undead landing up and down the coast, likely an attempt to soften the city's perimeter. We need to organize the Vigil's forces and defend the beach. Come, let's review the troops.”, General Soulkeeper issued.

They walked outside toward the training grounds and Sgileas tried to keep up with the General, his leg protesting with every movement. But when he saw the many Vigil members on the court, fighting training dummies, training together, at the shooting range... His leg did not hurt as much.

 _These were people of Tyria_ , he thought. _These are are the ones I am sworn to protect, by the power granted to me upon my awakening._ _These are the people that my Wyld Hunt is called to protect with its success._

“Crusaders!”, Almorra screamed over the court and everyone turned and listened instantly. “Forces of the Elder Dragon Zhaitan stand on the very threshold of Lion's Arch. If Lion's Arch falls, the nations of Tyria will not be far behind. Fight for your homes! Fight for your families! This is what we've trained for! This is what we've bled for! This is what we will die to defend! We will hold this ground! We are the Vigil!”

They all raised their hands into the sky and a loud, volumes cheer errupted that made the earth quiver. In the roar Almorra turned toward Sgileas.“Vigil scouts report massive numbers of undead along the coast. We must hold out or Lion's Arch will fall.”

“What's your plan, General?”, Sgileas asked.

“We have soldiers mustering on the beach ready to take your orders. Command them and defend this point.”

“At once.”, Sgileas nodded and stormed off toward the beach. The gates loomed overhead and beside it should a weapon rack, and without so much as a second glance Sgileas pulled a greatsword free from it. Trahearne was right beside him and watched him intently.

“The Vigil troops may hold this beach, but more undead will come. We need a better solution.”, Trahearne murmured.

“We'll find one. But for now, we have to make a stand – here. If they overwhelm us, we can still retreat.”

“Your leg is getting worse.”, Trahearne noted as they drew closer to the defensive line the vigil soldiers had created.

“I appreciate your concern, but I do not have time for that. Not now.”

“It could leave a permanent limp.”, Trahearne warned.

“I will hazard the consequences.”, Sgileas said with determination. “Soliders! I will take Command of this troop, and together we will strike those sniveling undead back towards the waters they emerged from. Form a defensive parameter and stand at the ready! We shall make sure our welcome does not disappoint.”

The soldiers saluted and grinned, efficiently doing as Sgileas had asked and he took a deep breath and held the greatsword steady in his hands. They waited for a few agonizing seconds that stretched into minutes until finally, the scout on the cliff shouted,

“Undead! Approaching!”

Barely a few seconds after they came bursting form the water, storming toward their defensive line. One after another, so many that Sgileas forgot to count.

“Hold fast, soldiers!”, he yelled. “They will not get through us!”

“Yessir!”, the voices around him agreed and then the undead clashed with them, were cut down one by one. The line held steadily, and no undead managed to push through. Sgileas felt the essences growing around him, those of the vile corpses that were Zhaitans minions, but he refused to collect them.

There was a reason they felt wrong. A reason he had only very recently understood. With his greatsword alone he cut through them efficiently, and Trahearne was always by his side.

When the last undead fell Sgileas erected himself and heard the soliders cheer. “Well done.”, Sgileas praised.

General Soulkeeper came rushing from the gates and she looked positively beaming. “Well done, soldiers! That should thin out the undead and take pressure off Lion's Arch for a while longer.”, she smiled.

“The Vigil bought us time, but not advantage. The undead don't get weary, and they have an almost unending supply of troops.”, Trahearne intervened and Sgileas could see there was a plan weighing in Trahearne's mind. “We must retake Claw Island and drive Zhaitan from these shores. General Soulkeeper, there are many brave souls throughout Tyria who may be willing to lend a hand, if the Vigil reached out to them.”

“True. A few come to mind. A norn called Fibharr has been making his name in the tournaments. Fights like a rabid drake. I also know two fine charr soldiers that I've been trying to recruit for years—Sarl and Galine. They'd be a tremendous help.”

“I could go, ma'am, and speak on behalf of the order.”, Sgileas offered.

“Good initiative. Pick one or the other, and do your best to bring them aboard. Meanwhile, I'll return to Vigil Keep and rally our crusaders there.”

“Whatever you decide, I'm going with you. You need the help—and I owe it to Forgal.”, Trahearne said and Sgileas nodded thankfully.

“He would like that, and appreciate it.”, he murmured, heard the echo of Forgal's laughter in his ears. “And I do too.”

Trahearne's hand gently rested on his arm and without even a second thought, Sgileas laid his hand atop the firstborn's and squeezed it with his fingers. He would do himself no favor if he pretended he did not need any help, that Trahearne's presence was not soothing the swarm and swirl of emotions that gushed in him, ready to overwhelm him if he was not careful.

“We need reinforcements. The two possibilities as it stands are a norn pit-champion, or a warband of Iron Legion charr.”, Trahearne gently reminded him.

“What are their strengths? Start with the norn.”

“Fibharr is powerful, skilled, and charismatic...but he's also the most egotistical snot-brain I've ever met.”

Sgileas smiled weakly. “More so than me?”

The hand on his arm tightened just slightly and Trahearne smiled. “Nobody compares to your arrogance, Sgileas.” He chuckled at that.

“What about the charr?”

“The Gear warband have two claims to fame: they built an impressive war-engine, and they got so drunk that they lost it.”

“Seriously?”, Sgileas laughed, and at the sound of Sgileas laughter Trahearne could not help but smile himself. It was good to see that laughter was possible for the young sylvari, that it was not lost in the tragedy. Warmth spread in his chest at the sight of it, and he vowed to himself he would protect that side of Sgileas to the best of his capabilities.

“Which will it be, Sgileas? The norn gladiator or the charr engineers?”, Trahearne asked and felt Sgileas hand drop from his own and removed it from Sgileas' arm.

“I have something of an ulterior motive.”, Sgileas began, and the sparkle of laughter had been replaced with melancholy. “I want to visit Hoelbrak to honor Forgal at the hearths. While we are there we can recruit Fibharr.”

“That is a wonderful idea, Sgileas.”, Trahearne encouraged. “I am sure Forgal would be proud.”

Sgileas eyes averted and he nodded. “Yeah.”, he murmured, his voice broken. “I'd like to think so, too.”

“Come.”, Trahearne grasped his hand and wondered why it was still cold. “Let us head to Hoelbrak.” Sgileas nodded and held his hand tightly. It was a strange gesture, one that made those they passed look at them with a frown, but Trahearne cared little for their thoughts.

In Sgileas state he needed company, warmth, sympathy. A shoulder to lean on, a hand to hold. A rock to cling to.

Trahearne was content to be all of those things – especially since he was certain that the part of his Dream that had haunted him for all his life seemed to finally come true.

Whilst he had Dreamed he had seen Orr, a land of corruption and desolation and grass weaving over its planes, trees and plants gushing from the gray sand that covered the land. Among it all had been an oak that had grown over many, many years. Strong and tall and wide, and one branch that stood out above all. It was dark like the cold of night and it grew longer and stronger until it cracked and split – two thinner branches growing apart. The one was white like ivory, beautiful and smooth and the other dark like charcoal and ash. The ivory grew beautiful flowers of all colors, and the dark one split and twisted and festered, circled the one in ivory and corrupted it and ever so slowly corrupted the tree until even the oak had to submit to the darkness. Yet, among the network of dark branches that entwined and twisted remained the glimmer of the ivory branch in between – faintly and dying.

It had taken Trahearne years to decipher what the message had meant, and he had consulted the Pale Mother on numerous occasions. At first he had feared it was an image of himself, the dark branch an allusion to his necromantic ability, a sign of the festering nightmare that lay inherent in his prowess.

When Riannoc had chosen to nobly fight Mazdak the Accursed Trahearne had been certain that the ivory branch amidst the corruption was a symbol for the firstborn and his death – yet even that had not been the truth. He had searched and wondered upon its message until Sgileas had awakened, when he had seen that the two sides existed and what prowess the darkness in him had.

Trahearne was certain now. That the ivory branch was the soft center of Sgileas and that it would be easily overwhelmed, that the survival of the oak in the land of Orr and therefore Orr itself depended on Sgileas to balance light and dark.

It was as Forgal had said, as their Pale Mother believed: It depended on Sgileas whether they would succeed in fighting Zhaitan.

Hoelbrak was unbearably cold, the chill rushing through his robes mercilessly. The norn stomped about with nothing but shirts covering their torso, wide, huge arms free to the bitter cold.

If Sgileas felt cold he did not show it. He made his way toward the great hall. He knew where it was without ever having been here, part of it was intuition and the other the knowledge he had gained from the Dream.

The hall was illuminated in torch light, the massive wooden constructions and pillars making him halt a moment to appreciate the architecture and sight – and imagined Forgal's spirit beside him as he descended the stairs.

When he approached one of the story-tellers, one of the skaalds he felt the first wave of nervousness that flashed into his veins and his hand glided from Trahearne's. He had barely registered how hard he had clutched it and the skaald smiled at him.

“We rarely see any of your kind here, traveler. Is there something I can help you with?”

“I come for Forgal Kernsson, Warmaster of the Vigil, who has died an honorable death in our recent battle at Claw Island.”

The skaals'd eyes widened and then softened. “He was a strong norn, and many revered him. His death strikes all of us, and he will be missed.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, but I am not here for sympathy.”, Sgileas said with determination. “I have come to honor my mentor and friend at the hearth, so that the story of his noble sacrifice and his way of life is known.”

“By the bear, the fire in you have might burn brighter than any hearth we have.”, the skaald smiled. “Speak your mind at the tooth, and you will find those who will listen. Raven guide your words.”

When Sgileas marched toward the small steps that lead toward the tooth and stepped upon them he realized had prepared no great speech, had not memorized or learned anything by heart.

Instead he was certain the the words he would speak would come from it, not be forced upon it. His sorrow, his awe – all of it would flow into his words.

Sgileas took a deep breath, saw Trahearne down below who gave him an encouraging smile. There were already some norn who gave him a curious glance, and others that were yet to be brought to attention. But they would listen, Sgileas thought.

“People of Hoelbrak.”, Sgileas began. “The Dream shows us sylvari what a great and strong people the norn are, how the cold and harsh north leaves you unfazed, how you carry larger weapons than my kind could ever hope to hold, yet the truth of your greatness was revealed to me only when I met the great warrior Forgal Kernsson. Forgal was an old cuss, a warrior worthy of respect, so large I sometimes thought my neck might snap from gazing up toward him.”

Norn approached and those that had already settled around him gave a slow chuckle. Others held their ale in silence and watched him with eager anticipation.

“He fought with the Vigil so that Zhaitan might get a taste of his steel, so that other people would never have to endure the tragedy of his own life. He showed me how important trust is, how very important it was that we fight together to face a greater foe. That divided we will fall. At Claw Island he saved my life. Not only once, but twice. He cut down the abomination with his two axes, and then sacrificed himself so that we might escape. He stayed behind to face a dragon, one of Zhaitan's minions to buy us time to escape – and to live to fight another day.”

The norn glazed up on him and from the hush that had befallen the crowd Sgileas knew that they were listening intently and he swallowed the knot in his throat.

“I will never forget his heroic sacrifice. But even more so I refuse to forget how he lived. Forgal is a part of me. A part of all of us, and a symbol for what it is worth fighting for. So that we may stand united against any enemy – and show him the color of our steel. To show our enemies that Tyria stands united against them.”

Sgileas took a deep breath and then slammed his fist against his chest, right above his heart and closed his eyes. He imagined Forgal's spirit in the crowd. The smile on the old man's lips. The cheers that rose from the crowd barely even reached his ears.

“For you, Forgal Kernsson.”, Sgileas whispered. “I will never forget you, my friend.”

“Well spoken!”, norns shouted.

“To Forgal Kernsson!”

“To Forgal!”

Sgileas opened his eyes and gulped, but the tightness of his throat would not leave. He was fighting the tears, the swell of emotions and before he had had spoken or signaled anything, Trahearne was right there in front of him and embraced him, shielded him from the eyes of the norn.

The cheer's were loud and buzzing and Sgileas clutched and held on to Trahearne as he fought the tears once more. “You did well.”, Trahearne said, and even though he spoke barely louder than a whisper Sgileas heard over the roars and cheers of the crowd. “Forgal would be grateful and proud.”

Sgileas held on, was able to force the tears back. He did not want to cry in front of all these people, his pride forbade it. “I hope so.”, he chocked out against Trahearne's shoulder.

When would he stop seeking the warmth of Trahearne's embrace? When would his body stop yearning for the comfort it offered? Had the blow left him this weak so that he could not stand on his own? He felt ashamed to seek it so openly and to accept it.

He reluctantly pulled away and noticed once again that Trahearne gave him complete control over the length of their embrace, that the firstborn only retreated once Sgileas had. It was warm, and comfortable, and a dozy part of his brain protested that there was nothing wrong with seeking comfort.

 _I am only exploiting his kindness,_ Sgileas thought when he stood close to Trahearne, his hands holding on to Trahearn's elbows.

“ _Just a small piece of advice from an old man: Just tell him. We do not live forever.”,_ Forgal's voice suddenly appeared in his head and when he met Trahearne's eyes it came down on him like an avalanche, like a rock that hit him square in the chest and he was trapped beneath the revelation.

Trahearne looked gentle, kind. Sgileas had yearned his approval ever since he had awakened and somehow, at some point in time that Sgileas did not even remember, that had changed, but only slightly. The angle of approval was different. It was not gazing up at a mentor or idol and expecting a pat on the head. It was the comfort of the embrace, the permission to hold his hand.

Glowing yellow eyes, skin green like freshly sprouted grass, the cheeks darkened with a jagged pattern and two dark lines over his eyebrows. Foliage of the color of ivory and white, resting wildly atop Trahearne's head as though they refused to yield. Sylvari armor covering his body from head to toe, clinging to his bark.

 _No_ , Sgileas thought defiantly and noticed that Trahearne's gaze was worried when he had not said a word. _No, that can't possibly -_

But who was he fooling but himself?

“Sgileas?”, Trahearne asked and lifted his own hands, touched his elbows and held them tightly, just as Sgileas did to his. It was firm, strong, grounding, and for the first time Sgileas was _afraid_.

“It-”, Sgileas chocked out and shook his head. “It's nothing.” His arms fell from Trahearne, suddenly conscious of every touch, every sensation. “Let us search for this norn.”

Trahearne nodded, had mirrored Sgileas motion and lowered his hands. The crowd around them was still cheering and Sgileas walked by them, saw that many ales were raised into the air as he passed by and some splattered onto his robe. He smiled weakly at the audience as he passed through.

When he stood at the entrance he glanced back once more toward the tooth, the audience, noticed they were still cheering all on their own.

 _For you, old man._ , Sgileas thought and smiled ruefully and then finally turned away.

  


“This moot is for tournament champions. No doubt, Fibharr will be here, telling tales of his glory.”, Trahearne murmured as they waded through the ankle deep snow. Sgileas leg protested still, but he had found a great strategy to ignore its painful pulses: He would think of Zhaitan, and the anger would sap any pain and replace it with eager determination. “I dreamed of Orr, as Caithe did. But where she saw a dragon to fight, I saw a land to heal. At least Caithe had a tangible target. I barely knew where to begin.”

“Yet here you are.”, Sgileas said. “Forgal said you were a stubborn one to keep going back to Orr. He sounded impressed. We will find a way after Zhaitan is defeated. Perhaps then we can finally make your Wyld Hunt tangible as well.”

Trahearne chuckled. “You have no obligation to help me. My Wyld Hunt is my own.”

“But you are the one who keeps telling me that alone we can not hope to best Zhaitan. Why would you refuse my help?”

“You are right.”, Trahearne yielded. “Perhaps I was hasty to let my pride answer.”

How did Trahearne yield so easily? Pride was Sgileas' vice, he knew, the one he would never truly best. It was what made him feel ashamed at his emotions of sorrow, made them look weak. “I will help you.”, Sgileas promised. “Once Zhaitan is defeated we will find a way to cleanse Orr, even if I have to plant and water every oak myself.”

Trahearne looked at him in surprise, his Dream coming back to him, but Sgileas could not possibly know. Whatever had he done to deserve such dedication from the young sylvari? “Thank you Sgileas.”, Trahearne said earnestly. “I would like that.”

Sgileas nodded, but did not dare meet Trahearne's eyes. His body felt warm and giddy and he hoped that the firstborn would not notice the youthful and childish reaction.

They approached the moot and Sgileas could see various norn gathered in a small group, one of them boasting loudly.

“This will be difficult, Sgileas. I hope you are ready.”

“What's so difficult?”, Sgiles asked with a raised eyebrow.

“These norn are at the top of their fighting class. You will have to beat them before they will join us. Norn are boisterous, but their hearts are good. They will be moved by our need—but for pride's sake, we will have to fight.”

Sgileas sighed. “Then fight I will.”

“Just be careful”. Trahearne insisted and Sgileas wondered why the firstborn was so worried. “You have refused to rest, and your leg will be a disadvantage in this fight. Perhaps it would be best if I fought him and-”, but whatever reasoning followed after, Sgileas interrupted.

“No.”, he said quickly, too quickly in fact. They both stood still in the snow, small flakes drifting from the sky down onto their foliages and shoulders. Sgileas gulped at the questioning glance Trahearne gave him. “You are not from the Vigil.” Sgileas finally supplied. “If we want to recruit him, I have to fight him. Do not worry. I will be fine.”

Why had he been so quick to cut in? Could he make it any more obvious? He wanted to smack his head into the snow.

“Very well.”, Trahearne murmured.

“What happened next, Fibharr? Did you slay them all?”, a norn voice drifted toward them when they approached.

“Well, I may have been outnumbered twenty to one, but they were merely griffons! I locked eyes with the biggest one...then I charged! Battle cries, beaks—feathers everywhere! In the end, the mighty griffon king bowed before my strength, and I set him free.”, Fibharr grinned.

“Amazing. Simply amazing!”, the other norn breathed in awe.

“Come to hear the tales of my great exploits?”, Fibharr pointed toward Sgileas with a grin. “Oho! You're from the Vigil. Finally decided to come pay respect to the victoriffic Fibharr Ygosson?”

“ **I** 'm here on behalf of General Soulkeeper. Lion's Arch is in danger, and the Vigil is readying soldiers... You do realize "victoriffic" isn't a word, right?”

“Defend Lion's Arch? A noble cause. Still, sounds like I'd be just one sword among many. Sorry. Not my style...and it is a word if I say it's a word.”, Fibharr shrugged.

“Your tournament conquests are second only to your fame as a gambler, Fibharr. I propose a wager. My companion and I versus the rest of you.”

“Ha! Do you realize you're facing an encampment of tournament champions? You're victorifically insane!”

Sgileas gave Trahearne a sharp look, one which Trahearne returned with a smile. _I said I would do this,_ Sgileas brought across without words.

 _I told you I'd help you,_ Trahearne's smile answered.

Slowly Sgileas turned his head back toward Fibhall. “If we win, you and your companions join us to defend Lion's Arch. And if you win-”

“If I win, you two have to carry my pet dolyak to the encampment! He can't make it up that steep hill. Prepare yourselves for the challenge!”

Slowly they entered a small ring and as they each stood on their sides, Sgileas immediately hissed at Trahearne, “I told you I can take this.”

“I do not doubt it.”, Trahearne told him in a whisper. “But we have a better chance together. You do not have to do this alone.”

“I don't want-”, thankfully Sgileas interrupted himself before he finished that sentence. _I dont' want something to happen to you_.

Trahearne waited for him to finish that sentence, but Sgileas turned his head away, stubbornly forced the greatsword into the ground and pretended to have some issue with its hilt.

“You don't want...?”, Trahearne asked and Sgileas felt the familiar warmth spreading in his chest again.

“Are you ready?”, Fibharr's voice saved him from answering.

“We are.”, Sgileas called and ignored the stare Trahearne was giving him. Sgileas had trained so little to keep his tongue in check that it had now slipped – and perhaps given Trahearne more insight than Sgileas wanted for him to have.

The fight started without further ado – and it soon showed that Trahearne had been partially right. His leg gave him trouble, especially when he lunged and stepped upon it, but he fought against the pain as much as he did against the group of norn.

He held the group back, growled deeply in his chest and called upon his shadows as soon as one even so much as _dared_ to move around him toward where Trahearne stood. The firstborn wore a scepter, a weapon meant for ranged fights. The shadows clutched the norn greedily and pulled him back, threw him toward the ground where he stared up toward the shadowy figure of Sgileas that pointed the tip of the greatsword toward his throat.

The norn lifted his hands. “I yield.”, the norn shrugged and Sgileas ignored him from then on. The others fell in a similar manner until even Fibharr yielded when one of Trahearne's minions managed to make him stumble toward the ground.

“Impressive! I must admit, I didn't expect this much talent from the Vigil. Perhaps your order is more formidable than I'd though.”, Fibharr granted them.

“So, you'll help us fight Zhaitan's minions?” Sgileas asked and sheathed the greatsword on his back.

“A norn always keeps their word. My friends and I will fight for the Vigil at Lion's Arch. Together, we shall be victorific!”

“Still not a...”, but Sgileas sighed. “Ah, whatever. We'll see you there, Fibharr.”

“Sgileas, a moment alone, if you will.” _Oh, by the Pale Tree_ , Sgileas thought. Trahearne had seen through him, would certainly want to discuss his strange behavior. But Trahearne looked distracted and thoughtful.

“I've been considering our options. The Orrians are entrenched. It will be incredibly difficult to regain Claw Island.”

“We can't give up hope, Trahearne.”, Sgileas insisted.

“I haven't lost hope.”, Trahearne soothed. “In fact, I'm counting on hope to lead the way. I feel that we should ask for wisdom from the Pale Tree. If anyone knows how to defeat Zhaitan, it is the Mother. We should head to the Grove and speak with her before the battle.”

Sgileas had not seen the Pale Mother in such a long time, and at the memory of the Grove and the Omphalos chamber it filled him with the feeling of warmth and home. “Alright.”, Sgileas agreed. “I have not seen Mother in such a long time.”

“She will be overjoyed to see you again.”, Trahearne encouraged and the hand he placed on Sgileas shoulder almost seemed to burn into his bark. Sgileas eyes lingered on the hand that rested so gently and innocently and he cursed his heart that jumped.

“As am I.”, Sgileas croaked and when Trahearne smiled, his heart went erratic and he had to turn his eyes away.

“ _Just a small piece of advice from an old man: Just tell him. We do not live forever.”_

 _I can't, Forgal_ , Sgileas insisted and tried to shut the voice out. The voice that had started the allusions, that had made him ponder about the feelings at all. Without Forgal Sgileas would never have begun to wonder about their meaning. _I may have Dreamed, but that does not mean Trahearne has. It would conjure an abyss between us._

His heart gave a painful ache in dismay, but Sgileas silenced it. And even though he had, he forgot that the emotions raked stronger and hungered for more, waiting for the perfect moment to surface.

  


 


	8. Unfolding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sheesh. These two just won't get it, will they? Sgileas is too stubborn, and Trahearne not smart enough. Bless them. Don't worry, this won't go on forever like this, I promise.

Home was beautiful. It always brought warmth, a scent that was like incense and could easily help Sgileas relax. The various sylvari greeted them as they passed by, and Sgileas realized that they were not only in awe of Trahearne, the firstborn, but _him_ too. 

The Omphalos chamber was just as grand as he held in his memory, and their Mother even more so. “Hail, Mother. We seek your wisdom.”, Trahearne greeted her and Sgileas bowed his head in greeting. When he lifted his gaze the Pale Mother was smiling at them both.

“Bide a while. I have much to show you both. Come to me. Let me show you the way.”

“Mother Tree, I am sure by now you have heard of the destruction at Claw Island. Zhaitan is attacking in force.”, Trahearne explained.

“The soul of Tyria mourned as her children were cut down by the beast. The land wept, and the world shuddered.”

“Sgileas and I seek to right that wrong. We wish to fight Zhaitan, and take back what was lost. We've to come to ask your counsel.”

“The answer is at the heart of Tyria's future—and your own. Both of you must face the darkness, become guiding stars in the night.”

“Is it even possible to defeat Zhaitan?”, Sgileas wondered.

“Only with great courage. Come. I will show you a vision of your future, and the challenges to come...” She beckoned them closer and they both approached with anticipating hearts. “It is time, my brave sons. The future awaits.”

With a twist of her pale wrist she summoned a small ring of magic that shimmered in the air like a mirage.

“Where are we going?”, Sgileas asked and noticed that the Pale Tree looked strained.

“Orr, my son. Be brave, and make haste. This is very difficult for me.”

“Of course.”, Sgileas instantly replied and was the first to enter the mirage. What greeted him was foul air, thick and humid and the scent of undead, dark magic permeating everything around him. Dust and sand that covered every hard rock that rose into the sky, the ground pierced by dark plants.

Trahearne appeared behind him and studied the surroundings with a grim expression. “They say that Orr was once beautiful. A nation to rival Kryta, Ascalon and Elona. The human gods lived in the city of Arah, and the people here were blessed. After the gods left, the humans banded into guilds and warred upon each other. The Guild Wars caused great devastation, and the nations faltered.” Trahearne paused when they stepped upon a road.

“Where does this road lead?”, Sgileas asked with a frown.

“To the ancient city of Arah, the dragon's stronghold. That is your goal. Along the way, you will glimpse things that may yet come to pass.”, the Pale Tree's voice said from an illusion that walked beside them.

The path was full of undead, risen abominations that towered higher than any undead Sgileas had ever seen. “These creatures are formidable. Tougher than the ones at Claw Island. How will we defeat them?", Trahearne wondered.

“Alone, you cannot.”, the Pale Tree answered. “But with unity, you will find that many impossible things can be achieved.”

“There, right ahead.”, Sgileas breathed, saw silhouetted like ghosts in the far distance fighting the abominations. The vigil armor caught his eye, but beside them were also members of the Priory and the Order of Whispers. They approached, but none of ghosts could see them. There were fragments of another time.

A small defensive quarter had been built, strange metallic constructions and wires atop the walls that circulated with blue energy. The ghosts hurried and gathered toward the middle where one man stood in front of everyone else.

“Defenders of Tyria!”, the visionary Trahearne cried and enthralled everyone who listened. “When Zhaitan rose from slumber, the dragon found a long-dead nation and claimed it. The dragon expected the rest of Tyria to be as easily conquered. But we live, and we breathe, and we fight! All races, all orders, and all paths of life stand against Zhaitan. The dragon is a fearsome enemy. It wants nothing more than to paralyze us with doubt. But I tell you this—we are not afraid! We will never kneel!” The earth shook and trembled. “Do you feel that? The dragon hears us! To Arah, and victory!”

Sgileas watched in awe as the ghost army cheered. His eyes trailed toward Trahearne who stood rooted and perplexed. “Is this a vision of the future? Mother, I do not understand. I'm no general."

“You must be what Tyria needs you to be, my son. You have more courage than you realize.”, the Pale Tree soothed him.

Without a second thought Sgileas reached out to him and grasped his hand and held it tightly. It brought Trahearne from his reverie and he looked at Sgileas in surprise. “I know you can do this.”, Sgileas encouraged. “If anyone is fit to lead them, it's you.”

“I...”, for the first time, Sgileas saw that Trahearne had no words. He looked terrified of the task that was asked of him, and under Sgileas unwavering encouraging eyes Trahearne slowly nodded and gulped. “I will.”, the firstborn finally said. “If that is what Tyria needs of me, then I.... _we_ will bring them together.” Trahearne's hand squeezed back. 

Sgileas nodded, throat too tight for words. It was all mingled, his thoughts of the future, his very recent loss and discovery, the epiphany he had had. Among it all was the desire to pull Trahearne into his arms, but he held it back and even slowly loosened the grip on his hand.

“There is more I must show you.”, the Pale Tree said, had waited patiently. Sgileas thought he imagined it, but she gave them both a knowing smile. “The past taints the future. Our heroes have fallen. They must be redeemed. You are the catalyst. You must bring them together. Heal their wounds.”

Various visions of Destiny's Edge appeared, pairs of people that accused one another.

“ _Where were you? We needed you! Snaff...I couldn't protect him. I can still hear him screaming.”_ , Rytlock said and shook his head.

“ _Someone was going to die, no matter what I did—Snaff, or my queen. I had to make a choice. You would have done the same, any of you, if the person you loved was in danger! You would have done the same...”_ , Logan insisted. 

“Destiny's Edge disbanded after their loss against the Elder Dragon Kralkatorrik. To this day, they have unresolved grievances with one another.”, Trahearne murmured more to himself than Sgileas.

“ _It was your responsibility.”_ , Zoija accused. “ _Snaff trusted you, and you failed him!”_

“ _I tried to keep him out out of danger. I would have given anything to prevent his death!”_ _,_ Eir insisted.

“ _It wasn't enough. You weren't enough. You should have died, Eir, instead of him...”_

“Logan was called away by his queen, yet Eir chose to fight the Elder Dragon. They lost. Glint died, along with Snaff, Zojja's mentor and friend.”, Trahearne remembered.

“ _I've tried so very hard. They can't stop arguing. They can't understand that the dragons are more important.”_ , Caithe murmured in frustration. _“They'd throw everything away! I'm alone—and I'm tired._

“ _Come back to me.”_ , Faolain coaxed. “ _If the world must end, let us spend our last days in each other's arms.”_

“These visions represent a possible future for Destiny's Edge should they not resolve their quarrels. We need them to reconcile if we're to defeat Zhaitan.”

“How do we console people who are as stubborn as them?”, Sgileas asked. “Caithe had tried to keep them together, and all her efforts have been in vain.”

“A common enemy might be the answer.”, Trahearne supplied.

Sgileas nodded. “Maybe. You were telling me of Orr, and how its fall came.”

“Ah.”, Trahearne made, had not thought that it was a topic of interest for Sgileas, but was glad to share his knowledge on the history of this land. “Where was I? Oh, yes. The Guild Wards. Still angry over the loss of Ascalon, the charr struck hard while humanity fought with itself. The charr ravaged Ascalon with searing cauldrons and marched on Orr. As hope failed, an Orrian named Vizier Khilbron read the Lost Scrolls and unleashed an ancient curse. The curse annihilated the charr army, but it destroyed Orr as well. A cataclysm plunged the nation into the ocean. Everything was lost. It was Zhaitan, the Elder Undead Dragon, that pulled Orr from the depths. The massacre of Orr gave the dragon fertile ground to create its horrific army. Zhaitan's power does not end here. In slaughter, its army grows stronger. Claw Island was just the beginning. The dragons are destruction. They will not stop until all life on Tyria is destroyed.”

All the while Sgileas listened they made their way through the land of Orr, wandering over the dust and desolation the land was.

Right before a small cave the Pale Tree suddenly spoke once more. “This is the tomb of the kings of Orr. Walk inside, and seek truth. But be warned—the future can change in the blink of an eye...”

“We will be careful, mother.”, Sgileas promised and went on first. It was dark the second he entered, but darkness was not something that he feared. He heard Trahearne's steps behind him and wished that the firstborn would have stayed behind, but it was an irrational notion that he drowned.

The cave widened into a careful architectures tomb, small crevices in the walls serving as resting places for the coffins of the dead. One especially large coffin stood under a stone arch and as they approached a ghost rose from within.

“To see the sky...feel once more the wind, and the sun...although my nation has drowned, a slow blood still pulses in its veins.”, the ghost murmured as though they were not even there. “Orr was once the heart of Tyria, so full of life. I was the last of a line of proud rulers. Now, my nation is enslaved. What do you seek here? Orr has nothing left to give, save ash and bones.”

“We came to fight Zhaitan. Can you give us counsel?”, Sgileas asked carefully.

“Zhaitan can be defeated, but that will not save Orr. The land must be cleansed of this poison. Seek the source...”

“Is Zhaitan the source, or is there some other poison that fouls Orr?”, Sgileas demanded. If this ghost could give them the answer, then Trahearne's Wyld Hunt would finally be tangible. “Please, tell us!”

“Seek the source...Cleanse Orr...Seek...the source...”, the ghost faded into a thin mist and Sgileas watched in dismay. He took a deep breath and sighed.

“The source.”, he mumbled. “What could be the source of this corruption if not Zhaitan?”

“We will find out.”, Trahearne said. “But we should not linger. Come on. We have learned what we could, and to find out that the corruption is not inherent to Zhaitan is a small victory.”

“I had hoped to find an answer.”, Sgileas grumbled. “Your Wyld Hunt would profit from this knowledge. All we have to do is find this source. Whatever it may be.”

Trahearne chuckled. “I am flattered your think of my Wyld Hunt like this, Sgileas. We will find a way for the both of us. I am sure of it.”

The desire to grasp Trahearne's hand was almost demanding and Sgileas held it back, but only barely. He nodded instead, all other words suddenly gone from his throat.

When they approached the Pale Tree she smiled. **“** Your last challenge on the road to Arah will be the guardian of the gate. Beyond this...I cannot foretell. Once before, I gave this sword to a beloved son. Now, I pass it on to you, Trahearne.” She raised a hand and Caladbolg appeared, magnificent and beautiful as it was the day Sgileas had held it against Mazdak. He watched Trahearne as the firstborn slowly grasped the sword and looked like he held an artifact made from glass. “Bear it with honor, and the sword will never fail you. Test yourselves against the guardian, then return to me in the Grove.”

“We will, mother.”, Trahearne answered and the Pale Tree smiled and disappeared, leaving them just a few meters away from the massive steps that led up toward where the Guardian had to be. Trahearne tested the blade and slowly nodded. “It really is a fine blade.”, there was sadness in his tone. “It is sad that Riannoc died so early.”

“Were you...close?”, Sgileas barely dared to ask, tried to ignore the pang of jealousy that he knew he had no right to.

“As close as could be. We were the first to awaken, to explore a new world. If only he had listened, perhaps things would have been different.”, Trahearne shook his head and Sgileas was not sure if that was a yes or a no. It felt like both, and the uncertainty bored like a sharp shard into Sgileas chest.

“We have avenged Riannoc.”, Sgileas finally supplied.

“Yes.”, Trahearne smiled at him. “With your help. Now let us best this Guardian and return home.”

That smile it was almost...fond. Endearing. Trahearne took the steps and Sgileas followed him toward the top where a large guardian stood ready to receive them, a massive hammer lazily held over its large shoulders.

There was not even a word spoken. As soon as they approached the guardian seemed to awaken from a slumber and moved its hammer, approached them and without warning attacked them.

But Sgileas and Trahearne were ready. They parted to the sides simultaneously and where they had stood the hammer met the stone paved ground which cracked with a loud noise. Before the Guardian managed to lifts its hammer once more Sgileas and Trahearne cut into the Guardians side, both greatswords sinking through the armor and the flesh beneath.

The Guardian made no sound. It only dropped to the ground onto one knee, held itself there for a second and then fell toward the ground where it lay unmoving. Sgileas smiled up at Trahearne and felt victorious when suddenly the Guardian growled and the hammer swung to the side.

It hit Sgileas before he could react and the shadows engulfed him, made him invulnerable for the brief moment that it took. The hammer swung through him and the Guardian lifted its body from the ground, used the force of the swing to attack Trahearne.

The firstborn blocked the blow with Caladbolg and skittered backwards at the force, his soles crunching over the stone beneath. Sgileas was tangible again and cast the scythe around the greatsword, lifted and cut over the Guardians back.

It gave a loud cry and a large wound tore open, even the heavy armor that covered its body cut. Enraged it turned and Sgileas ducked the fist that was aimed at his head, the hammer following soon after. He dodged backwards, rolled onto his back and onto his feet again. His leg protested and succumbed for a second, long enough to trap him in place.

The guardian lifted itself into the air, lifted the hammer high over its head and made it come crashing down to where Sgileas stood. He stumbled to the side, barely dodged it as stone began to fly around him and covered the air in dust.

The Guardian cried out and through the veil of dust Sgileas could see that Trahearne had thrust the blade into the Guardian's back, that the tip of Caladbolg pointed out of its chest. For a few seconds the Guardian stood and then Trahearne pulled Caladbolg free and the massive body fell to the floor.

Sgileas clutched his leg and cursed himself inwardly, pushed himself to sit up again. He had landed on his side and his ribs protested with every movement, but he refused to listen. Trahearne was by his side instantly and cast him a worried glance.

“Are you alright?”, the firstborn asked and Sgileas swallowed the pride in him that was hurt by the weakness he had displayed. Trahearne's hand was on his shoulder, steadying him where he sat and Sgileas nodded.

“I'm fine.”, he mumbled. “No need to fret.”

“I told you that you should rest.”, Trahearne lectured him. “Your leg will only continue to plague you. Once we are back in the Grove, promise you will stay with Mother, at least until you are better.”

“Trahearne-”, Sgileas wanted to argue but the firstborn narrowed his eyes and looked at him fiercely.

“I know how urgent all of this is, how important. But without you at your best we might as well not try. We need you in the fight against Zhaitan.”

“I can't sit idly by while you continue to fight!”, Sgileas grit out. “I have already lost the credibility of my abilities. Don't make everyone believe I have lost my fighting spirit, too.”

Trahearne frowned at him. “Nobody believes that, Sgileas. You are too hard on yourself.”

“I don't need to be patronized!”, Sgileas growled. “Ever since Claw Island I am not the same. I know I am not. But that does not mean that I am willing to fight any less.”

“Nobody doubts that.”, Trahearne soothed. “And I am not patronizing you. Take a deep breath, Sgileas. You need not be angry.”

“I am-”, Sgileas wanted to grit out and did as Trahearne had asked. He took a deep breath and the anger faded. “I am frustrated.”, he finally confessed.

“Understandibly.”, Trahearne alleviated. “We will speak of this in the Grove. Come on, I'll help you.”

“I can-”, Sgileas began to protest, but Trahearne was already pulling one of Sgileas arms over his shoulder and lifting him from the ground. Sgileas stumbled beside him, his leg pulsing painfully with every step, but he would have managed to walk alone.

“Let me help you.”, Trahearne asked of him, and Sgileas could do nothing else. He tried to ignore the scent that lingered around Trahearne and its calming effect on him, but he was not very successful.

Once they stepped through the mirage that had appeared close to where the Guardian lay the Grove engulfed them magnificently and Sgileas breathed a little easier.

The Pale Tree looked worried when they approached. “My son.”, she whispered when Trahearne guided Sgileas closer and steadied him where he stood.

“I am fine, Mother.”, Sgileas soothed her.

She nodded slowly. “You two are so brave. I am proud of you both. Orr has had all hope stripped from it. To confront the dragon you must first overcome your greatest fear, lest you be consumed by it. Tell me, what do you fear, Sgileas?” He gulped and remembered Forgal, his sacrifice, the great wound that lay upon his hears.

“That an innocent person who believed in me would die because I couldn't save them.”, he all but whispered and lowered his gaze.

“That you seek to protect the innocent shows your gentle heart. Hold fast to that earnestness; it will also be your strength.”, the Pale Tree encouraged him and he could only nod numbly.

“Thank you, Pale Tree. I will remember your wisdom.”, he murmured. 

“To know the future, even a mere possibility, can be a great burden. I am sorry, brave heroes, that you must walk this path.”

“Must these things come to pass, Mother? Must I take up Caladbolg and travel into the heart of Orr?”, Trahearne asked as though the destiny that awaited him caused him great distress.

“You must both take up this mantle. Trahearne, your duty is to cleanse Orr. Sgileas shall aid you...and then face the dragon.”

“And Claw Island?”, Sgileas asked. “Can we retake it and save Lion's Arch?”

“I believe so...but that will not be your first test. The dragon seeks to destroy its enemies before they can strike. I see within the Dream that Zhaitan's forces enter battle—not against Lion's Arch, but at the heart of your Order.”

“The Vigil headquarters? No! How could that be? How could Zhaitan even know...”, Sgileas asked and his eyes were wide as his mind imagined all those undead storming the Vigil Keep.

“Those who have been corrupted reveal everything to Zhaitan. Nothing is secret, least of all those places where his enemies hide.”

“I have to go to them. They have no warning—they'll be slaughtered!”, Sgileas insisted.

“Easy.”, Trahearne murmured beside him. “I will go with you. Our fates are bound together.”

“Farewell, valiant souls. May your Wyld Hunt be successful, and may your courage illuminate the dark of night.”, the Pale Mother said and Sgileas bowed his head.

“We will not fail, Mother.”, he vowed and Trahearne led him toward the seed that would take them below. “We have to hurry.”, Sgileas urged. “They have no warning at all, if they are attacked -”

“Sgileas.”, Trahearne interrupted and as the seed slowly drifted below Sgileas went quiet immediately. “We will safe them. Take a deep breath.”

Sgileas shook his head and rested his face in his hands. “I can't let what happened to Forgal repeat itself.”, he whispered.

Trahearne's hand on his shoulder was warm and grounding. “It won't. We will help them and from this day forward, we fight as one.”

Sgileas lifted his eyes. “We fight as one.”, he repeated. Trahearne nodded and when the seed finally had dropped below he rose. Sgileas rose as well and took a deep breath. “We fight as one.”

  
  


The Vigil Keep was under attack. It was clear even before Sgileas saw the siege wepons that battered at the walls, before he saw the Risen that fought against the Vigil members that attempted to hold the line.

“Warmaster! Trahearne! Thank the alchemical processes that inspired your presence. We're under siege!”, Warmaster Efut yelled over the sounds of fighting.

“Not if we take out that trebuchet.”, Sgileas insisted and dashed forward before anyone could stop him. His eyes were trained on a bone trebuchet that was firing unhindered at the walls of Vigil Keep.

As he approached he cut down every Risen that chose to cross his path. He heard Trahearne behind him, but if the firstborn had protested Sgileas had not heard. Not that he would have heeded it.

Zhaitan was bold to attack his order. Was bold to believe he would not stop him. The trebuchet was so very close and Sgileas lifted his scythe into the air when the ground broke beneath his feet and he saw sharp spikes rising from beneath. He was pushed back and a bone wall rose from the ground that protected the trebuchet efficiently.

“Thorns and brambles!”, Sgileas cursed, but his scythe was useless against the bone.

“Bone walls!”, Trahearne gasped behind him. “Those require powerful magic. We face no mere footsoldiers—there's an Orrian Vizier in there!”

Sgileas grit his teeth and cut his way back through and once he was in range yelled, “They've cut us off! The Orrians are protecting the weaponry that's battering our keep's fortifications. We have to destroy those siege engines!”

Warmaster Efut twisted her small head to the side. “Vigil Keep has defensive weaponry on the far ramparts, but they were damaged in the first assault. We didn't have the manpower to repair them. If we could clear the walls of undead and safeguard her path to the catapults, Blacksmith Vanhe can fix anything.”

“Then we'll have to give her that chance. Let's get to the top of the walls and check in with General Soulkeeper.”, Sgileas suggested.

“I salute your bravery, my friend. Strike hard and fast, and we'll guard your back. Form up, Vigil! Time to smash some rotten heads.”

Sgileas made his way up toward the hill and toward the keep, could see that the Risen had already stormed part of the ramparts and that the Vigil soldiers were desperately trying to hold them back.

Angrily he called the shadow and the essences he had gathered, pulled them forth into his shroud and sucked the life from the Rise that surrounded him. Bodies thudded to the floor and the Vigil Soldiers looked up in surprise when Sgileas drew his shroud back, a small sheen of sweat on his forehead.

“It's the Warmaster!”, a Crusader yelled. “We're saved!”

And suddenly it came from all sides.” Hail, Warmaster! Good to see ya.”

“Praise Wolf that you're here, Warmaster!”

“Warmaster! By the alchemy's twisting cogs!”

“At ease, soldiers.” Sgileas ordered. “Hold off these Risen. We have to hold this choke-point at any costs.”

They nodded and saluted. “Yessir!”

Pride filled him and he moved forward, could see Trahearne smiling from the corner of his eyes. “They respect you a great deal.”, Trahearne noticed.

“I...had not known.”, Sgileas murmured. They finally reached the top of the ramparts and just when Sgileas was to enter the keep, the door swung open with a bang.

“Hostiles eradicated in the inner keep. They were tunneling under the walls, the rotten scum.”, General Almorra grumbled and smiled when she spotted Sgileas.

“Reporting for duty, General! I hope you don't mind that I brought a friend.”, Sgileas grinned.

“Warmaster! Trahearne! Good timing.”, she grinned, baring her sharp teeth. “We need every able-bodied soldier we can deploy. Efut, what's our status?”

“I must report defeat, ma'am. There's an Orrian wizard down there. We weren't able to get through the magical barriers.”

“Disappointing, but understandable. Secondary recommendations, anyone?”

“Efut says there's a blacksmith who can repair our catapults. Trahearne and I can clear the ramparts while Efut follows behind to protect the civilian.”, Sgileas suggested.

“Once the Orrian siege weapons are destroyed, they'll have to lower the magical walls if they intend to continue the attack on Vigil Keep.”, Trahearne supplied.

“Without those walls, I'm confident we'd have been successful, General. This time, there'll be no stopping us.”, Warmaster Efut agreed.

“Excellent. While you do that, the crusaders and I will defend the wall. Move out!”, the General ordered.

They found the Blacksmith yelling obscenities at Risen. She was holding her ground fairly well, considering the Risen had swarmed her. “Bring it on, you Risen dungbeetles! You won't break this steel!”, she yelled defiantly and broke the skull of a risen with a massive hammer. “Wish I'd had time to fix these before the battle.” she murmured after inspecting a broken piece of weaponry. “You never know how to prioritize till you get attacked by screaming undead...”

She looked up in surprise when Sgileas, Trahearne and Efut appeared. “Blacksmith Vanhe, we need you to fix the trebuches ASAP.”, Sgileas ordered and she heaved a sigh.

“Of course, of course.”, she grabbed a small box and thrust it against Sgileas chest. He caught it and nearly succumbed under its weight, huffed at how heavy it was. “Carry this. Let's get to work.”

She knelt down at the trebuchet and Sgileas was glad to set the small box down again, noticed that Trahearne was smiling – but it was the sort of smile one had when holding back laughter. “It's really heavy.”, Sgileas explained.

“I can see that.”, Trahearne replied dryly, but the smile remained.

“There you go, Warmaster. Good as new! Let 'em have it!”, the norn smiled and he adjusted the trebuchet and fired.

“The Orrian siege weapons are down! You did it, Warmaster!”, Warmaster Efut cheered.

“No time to celebrate.”, Trahearne said grimly and pointed toward an advancing Undead cloud. “The undead are making one last push!”

“The Orrians dare to strike at our keep? Well, they shall see how a cornered lion fights!”, General Almorra growled.

“I'm itching to get some payback for that little wall-trick. Let's join the fray down on the field!”, Warmaster Efut insisted.

They moved down the ramparts, over the small bridge and down the hill toward where they had broke the enemies siege machinery. They met General Soulkeeper there among other Vigil Crusaders that fought by her side. “Fight to your last breath! To your last bit of courage! We stand between Tyria and death, and we cannot fail!”, she yelled.

The Undead kept coming, kept rising, kept growing. It seemed a never-ending battle, much like the time Sgileas had fought against the Risen with the Hylek, but this time he was surrounded by fighters whom he knew he could trust – and that this was a fight they could win.

He cut through the enemies with his scythe, the shroud constantly surrounding him in dark shadow. It felt powerful, euphoric, to finally be this strong again, the essences drifting toward him eagerly and keeping the shroud alive.

Sgileas came from the shroud to catch some breath and took a step back, brushed against Trahearne's chest. Startled he turned around and the firstborn grasped his arm in a strong grip and gestured toward the far side where a creature like none he had ever seen stood, did not pay it any mind that Sgileas was so close and leaned even closer to yell at Sgileas ear over all the noises around them.

“Look, there! It's their leader. One we take her down the battle is won!”, Trahearne's breath ghosted over the shell of Sgileas ear and he noticed how close Trahearne was and for a second his brain refused to work before he nodded.

“Let's go.” The hand on his arm loosened and they dashed through the fighting soldiers, the many risen that paved their way cut down as they made their way through. He accounted the erratic beating of his heart to the adrenaline of the fight.

The Vizier noticed them approach and gestured toward them, but the risen that greeted them were cut down by Sgileas scythe and Trahearne's Caladbolg with ease. Rarely had Sgileas felt this powerful. It was as if the presence of Trahearne somehow empowered him, as thought the purpose for which he fought was suddenly stronger than everything else.

With a cry Sgileas spun the scythe in front of him, left a lane of corpses and cut into the Vizier's skin. The undead screamed and swung a large staff at him which be blocked and as he did, Trahearne stabbed Caladbolg into the Vizier's side.

The Vizier stared disbelievingly and screamed like a banshee when Trahearne pulled Caladbolg free. Sgileas pushed the staff away and cut with his scythe right through the Vizier's middle and turned around, was watching for any Risen that might approach them, but the Undead suddenly looked lost and forlorn.

“The breath of life shall leave you...I shall watch it fail!”, the Vizier cried, but it faded just as its form did. It scattered to the wind like pages torn from an old worn book and the Undead around them succumbed to the now overwhelming forces of the Vigil, their sole advantage and chance of winning taken away.

Sgileas heaved a deep breath and looked at Trahearne, noticed that the firstborn was staring at him as well. It made his heart ache, to know what he was feeling, that he cared, cherished, that he could never have.

Trahearne on the other hand marveled at the strength and ease Sgileas had displayed. He had cut through the enemies lines with such ease, efficiency and finesse that he had never witnessed before. A prowess to be reckoned with and he smiled, knew that Zhaitan had more powerful enemies than the dragon believed.

“Well done, crusaders. The Orrians are defeated, and the keep is safe! Three cheers for the Vigil!”, General Soulkeeper issued from the far distance. The roars that answered her made the whole ground tremble.

“Hoorah! Victory for the Vigil!”

“It is fortunate that we arrived when we did.”, Trahearne murmured when he looked back upon all the soldiers. “Those undead were about to overrun the keep. The Pale Tree is very wise. If Vigil Keep had fallen, we'd never be able to defend Lion's Arch.”

“Do you remember what she said? "With unity, many impossible things can be achieved." She's right, Trahearne. The Vigil can't fight Zhaitan alone. The dragon is too powerful.”, Sgileas paused briefly when his eyes glided over the many soldiers, his mind churning. “But there is another way.”

“Whatever you're planning, know that I will stand with you.”, Trahearne smiled and Sgileas looked at him, could not hold the urge back this time. He took Trahearne's hand and averted his eyes, was staring down at where their fingers entwined. He held the firstborn's tightly and noticed once again how warm Trahearne's fingers felt, how well the fitted against his own.

“Thank you, Trahearne.”, Sgileas mumbled.

Trahearne felt his heart spike, the touch sudden and unexpected. He saw the nervousness in Sgileas posture, the shyness in the averted eyes and for the first time he wondered if there was something else among the admiration that Sgileas so obviously had. That perhaps until now he had not noticed it because things had been so tremendously busy, so entirely captivating that his focus had been elsewhere.

Yet in this very moment it was suddenly crystal clear. So very crystal clear that Trahearne was at a loss for words, that he did not know what to answer, how to address it. Did not even know what he was feeling himself. But before he could answer Sgileas spoke again.

“Let's talk to General Soulkeeper.”, Sgileas finally broke the silence and his fingers drifted from Trahearne's hand. The young sylvari turned away before Trahearne could protest and he had no option left but to follow.

When they approached General Almorra she was positively beaming. “Warmaster, your timing was fortuitous. You and Trahearne have saved our order.”

“It was our honor. If you don't mind, we need to brief you on recent events. Much has occurred in a very short time.”, Trahearne mentioned.

“General, I've become convinced that the Vigil can't stand against Zhaitan alone. We may have an army, but we don't have the information or resources.”, Sgileas dead-panned. There was no need to sugercoat it; General Soulkeeper was not a sweet tooth.

“Huh.”, was all she made at first before she thoughtfully continued. “If it were anyone other than you, Warmaster, I might think you were a coward. But after what you did on the field today, continue.”

“The other orders of Tyria are as concerned about the dragons as we are. The Vigil should speak with them and launch a unified effort.”, Trahearne insisted.

“Speak with them? But...but...the Order of Whispers underhanded backstabbers, and the Priory are simpering scholars!”, Warmaster Efut protested.

“You're wrong, Efut.”, Trahearne said sharply. “They simply have their own ways of fighting Zhaitan. Both would be staunch allies in the war.”

“I don't like it, and I don't trust them.”, General Soulkeeper said. “But I do trust you, Warmaster. And I trust Trahearne. If he says we're up against overwhelming odds, I believe him. Go to the other orders. Set up a meeting. Tell them the Vigil offers an alliance.”

Sgileas smiled. “Thank you, General. I'll do everything I can.” He saluted and then gestured toward Trahearne to follow. “That went better than I expected, truth be told.”, Sgileas said.

“They have spent their lives defying the other approaches of the other orders.”, Trahearne said. “It is only natural that such a grave change would bring about a great discrepancy. But I too am surprised.”

“We can't afford to be divided. Not by such childish grievances. We saw what it did to Destiny's Edge in a future that might be. The other Orders will have to hear us first; I can only hope they too will be reasonable.”

Trahearne watched him carefully. “When you awakened you were certain you could best every obstacle by yourself.”, Trahearne remembered. “You have grown, Sgileas.”

“I wish I had grown from different experiences.”, Sgileas confessed. “I have honored Forgal at the hearths, and now we will retake Claw Island to finally strike back at the dragon. I simply wish he would be here to witness this.”

“He will be watching from the mists.”, Trahearne soothed.

“He is not so far.”, Sgileas argued and his eyes pierced Trahearne's. “It was not empty words when I said he is a part of me. He said I was his legacy – and I intend to live up to his words.”

Trahearne nodded thoughtfully. “Be true to your word, Sgileas. Integrity is the key to credibility – and I believe you have seen today that you have lost none of it.”

“I...”, Sgileas hesitated for only a brief second. “I guess you are right.”

Even though Trahearne was no so certain about Sgileas feelings, or even his own, he grasped Sgileas' hand gently. “A great task awaits you, Sgileas. Uniting the orders will not be easy. But I will stand beside you.”

They stood, side by side, and Sgileas tried very hard to control the pace of his heart. “Not just me.”, he answered finally and squeezed Trahearne's hand with his own. “Both of us. We fight as one.”

“We fight as one.”, Trahearne agreed.

  
  


They returned back to the Grove and Trahearne took Sgileas to one of the Menders, even though Sgileas protested. ”I am fine.”, he grumbled as they made their way down the spiral.

“You are still limping, and the wound is barely a few days old.”, Trahearne reminded him. “We have bought ourselves some time, and we need to prepare if our strategy to retake Claw Island is to succeed.”

“We should be writing letters.”, Sgileas urged. “We need to inform the leaders of the other Order's and convince them to meet us.”

“And we will.”, Trahearne agreed. “ _After_ the Mender has had a chance to look upon your leg.”

Sgileas made a disgruntled noise, but they were already there and Trahearne seemed stubborn. They entered the small hollow tree, the large and thick bark to the side offering a little shelter. 

The air inside was warm and Sgileas saw the various tables, a variety of other sylvari that sat and were chatting about – until they realized who had entered and a hush fell over the small area.

“Firstborn.”, a sylvari bowed his head. 

“Where may I find Mender Aviala?”, Trahearne asked with a smile. “It is urgent.”

“In the chamber at the back.”, the svylari answered and Sgileas limped past them, tried very hard not to, but the pain made it almost impossible. 

A cover of ferns acted as a make-shift door and Trahearne brushed past them. Sgiles followed shortly after and a female sylvari looked up from a concoction that she was inspecting. 

“Trahearne.”, she greeted in surprise. “It had been a while since I have seen you. What brings you to me?”

“My companion.”, Trahearne answered and gestured toward Sgileas who was still reluctant to be here. “His leg was injured, and I have had to force him here.”

She smiled knowingly. “Please.”, she said and gestured toward a large bench. “Lie down, if you would.”

Trahearne stepped aside and Sgileas slowly made his way across, saw her eyes watching him intently. He knew she could see his limp clear as day and could discern why it was, but all he wanted was to alleviate the pain – so he could finally begin the process of retaking Claw Island. 

“How were you injured?”, she asked after Sgileas had lain down. 

“I fell.”, Sgileas replied curtly and she raised an eyebrow at him. “I am not even joking. An abomination hit my chest and I stumbled backwards over a railing and down a couple of stairs. It rushed against me and I think broke a rib, or two, but they do not bother me.”

Her hands were on his leg, moving it, bending it toward his stomach and he twisted his face in pain. Especially when she touched his ankle he noticed the pain being almost unberable and took a deep breath. 

“Sprained.”, she noted, “and a contusion on your knee and thigh. Thankfully, nothing is broken. But it's swollen pretty bad. It's a wonder you are walking at all.”

“He is made from stubborn vines.”, Trahearne commented and the Mender chuckled. 

Sgileas pulled his upper body up and rested on his elbows. “I need to walk. What can you do?”

“Nothing. Your body will take care of it, but you need to rest – at least for a few days.”

Sgileas snorted and his eyes met Trahearne's. “I told you. I might have as well not have come.”

“Perhaps one or two days lies within our capabilities.”, Trahearne said and stepped closer, rested a hand on Sgileas shoulder to keep the younger sylvari from jumping from the bench. “We will write the letters today, and the answer will most likely come tomorrow, or the day after, depending. Until then you can rest.”

“Fine.”, Sgileas grumbled. 

“Thank you.”, Trahearne smiled at the Mender and Sgileas stood and brushed past them without another word. 

“He's truly stubborn.”, the Mender murmured once Sgileas had disappeared. “He will do himself no good if he does not take it easy.”

“I'll take care of him.”, Trahearne promised and followed Sgileas, could not even see the thoughtful stare the Mender gave him. 

“I've told you it is nothing.”, Sgileas grit out as soon as they were outside again. 

“Repeatedly, and yet you were wrong.”, Trahearne smiled at him. 

“Don't do that.”, Sgileas grumbled, but before Trahearne asked what he meant he clarified, “That. It's not easy to stay angry if you do.”

Trahearne laughed at that and shook his head. “Perhaps that is exactly what it is meant to do. Come now, we have letters to formulate.”

They moved toward where the Raven's were kept and Trahearne was the one to write the message they had both agreed on. Sgileas sat beside him, watched Trahearne's hand glide over the parchment in a mesmerizing pace. 

The silence was only occasionally broken by the rustle of parchment when Trahearne moved it, or moved on to copy it once more. His handwriting was beautiful, unlike anything Sgileas had seen in the dream. 

His eyes trailed upward from the writing to Trahearne's fingertips, the long fingers toward his wrist, up his arm toward his shoulder, his neck and then rested on Trahearne's face. The firstborn was slightly bent forward, eyes focused on the parchment in front of him, too much so to even notice that Sgileas was staring.

This was Trahearne's element. He could see it clear as day: A scholar sitting in an old, dusty library among the many books and old knowledge, an ancient, large wooden table holding a pile of books that were of interest and a candle that was dripping with wax and its light dancing over Trahearne's features. 

Suddenly Trahearne looked up and their eyes met. A flush crept into Sgileas cheeks and he cleared his throat. “Just...a small feather in...your foliage.”

“Hm?”, Trahearne made and wandered with his hand through the ferns atop his head, and Sgileas wondered briefly if they were as soft and yielding as they looked. Trahearne's hand was empty and Sgileas lifted his own,

“No, here.”, he murmured and pulled the small feather from between two ferns behind Trahearne's ear, brought it forward for Trahearne to see. 

“No surprise.”, Trahearne smiled. “There are a lot of birds in our parts. Thank you.”

Sgileas only nodded and could not respond. It was captivating, the curve of Trahearne's lips when he smiled, that light movement of his eyebrows as they relaxed. He was beautiful, and Sgileas had to tear his eyes away. 

He was damned, he knew. He had fallen, fallen so deeply and evidently that he was not even sure how, or what to do now. The mission was so imperious that he could push every other thought away as distraction, but for how long? 

“Is your leg plaguing you?”, Trahearne asked and Sgileas noticed that Trahearne was not even looking him, had probably seen some expression from the corner of his eyes. 

“Among other things.”, Sgileas replied, and that made Trahearne glance up again and the pen halted. 

“When we were in Orr I told you we would continue our conversation. Now would be the chance to do so.”

Sgileas frown deepened. “There was something I was curious about. I can not seem to recall, but you said that I saved the survivors at Claw Island. I don't remember.”

Trahearne studied him for a moment and nodded thoughtfully. “You did seem...distracted. Far away. The undead had the back to the ship covered, there was no getting around them, only through. You stepped forward and cut through the undead, and created a path for us. So fast, in fact, that we could barely keep up with the injured.”

“Why do I not remember?”, Sgileas shook his head.

“You were in shock.”, Trahearne explained. “Forgal's death it... cut you deep, in that very moment. It cut into your heart and soul and separated it from your body to dull the pain of it, and your body did what it had to to survive. I believe Talon's words brought your spirit back and breathed life into wrath and hatred – so much that it engulfed you. The essences lapped on those emotions and overpowered you, and your body was once again left to defend itself – which it did splendidly. You fell unconscious for a day, but whatever battle you fought, I am sure you are the better witness of it.”

Sgileas nodded thoughtfully. “We will take it back.”, he murmured. 

Trahearne lifted his hand and placed gently upon Sgileas arm, and without a second thought Sgileas placed his free hand atop Trahaerne's. “Once we have united the Orders we will have the strength to best Zhaitan.”

“We have seen the future, and we know that you will lead them. But what should this new alliance that we are forging be called?”

“The Pact.”, Trahearne decided. “It symbolizes our unity against the dragon. They have ignored that the all fight the very same enemy for so long – and perhaps if we succeed then others will follow.”

“Destiny's Edge.”, Sgileas said and Trahearne nodded. 

“Perhaps they will too realize that unity is the way to defeat our enemies, and that old grievances must be put to rest.” There was a short pause. “One more letter, then you can finally rest.”

Sgileas hand dropped from Trahearne's and the hand on his arm moved back toward the parchment and wrote the lines one last time. The hand on his arm had left an imprint there, one Sgileas could not ignore even if he wanted.

This affection among all these occurrences...he could not let them overwhelm him. Would not. Should not. But with each moment that passed Sgileas felt the pull, large and strong, almost astronomical, as though he was a small moon orbiting a large sun. 

He wanted to reach out, to take Trahearnes hand and confess his feelings how confusion they were, that he knew he was not worthy, that Trahearne could not possibly have dreamed as he had...

But he was a coward. “I will go ahead, if you do not mind.”

Trahearne looked up in surprise. “And where would you go?”

“The Dreamer's Terrace.”, Sgileas replied as he rose. “I need...some time to think.”

With that he left Trahearne right where he was and did not even notice the worried glance that the firstborn cast after him. 

  
  


Trahearne made his way to the Dreamer's Terrace after sending the last letter. All they had to do now was await their answers or see if they did not show up as Trahearne had asked them to. 

Part of him was not sure if it would all go so smoothly; surely the Order's would be at each others throat, and if they did come, they only did so because a common enemy threatened all of Tyria – and because Trahearne and Sgileas had asked them to. 

It was easy to see ones own nose and to forget that a whole other world lay ahead, that there was more than ones simple mind. But they would come, of that much Trahearne was certain.

The Dreamer's Terrace was lit with a smooth, soft light that came from the blossoms that adorned the path and he almost expected that Sgileas would not be here, that he would have sought seclusion, but when Trahearne made his way toward one of the resting chambers he found the young necromancer resting in a hammock, back turned toward the entrance.

The greatsword leaned against the wall and a small bowl rested on a small table beside the hammock, but other than that the room was empty. When he stood in the doorway Sgileas turned around and glanced at him.

“Checking if I did not run off?”, he asked, and Trahearne thought he heard an accusation in his tone.

“I was sure you would not get far.”, Trahearne jested and could almost hear the roll of Sgileas eyes. “But yes, I was worried you might.”

Sgileas sat up, the hammock swinging slightly from side to side. “And where would I go?”, he asked. 

“Lion's Arch, Claw Island, Orr. There are various places that come to mind.” This was the first time that Trahearne saw Sgileas in dim light, the first time that he saw the young's sylvari pattern glow. 

It was a light shade of purple that rose from his dark, teal skin, that made his eyes come to life. The fern atop his head were long and angled down that they dropped over half his face and with a motion of his hand Sgileas brushed them away slightly, revealing the complete pattern on his face. “You do not trust me.”

It was a harsh blow, one which Trahearne did not know the origin. “And where would you get that idea?”

“I am not stupid.”, Sgiles grumbled in frustration. “I am... _angry_ , yes. I don't want to be hurt enough that I have to rest and be liability. But that does not mean that I do not understand its necessity. That notion is an insult to my intelligence.”

Trahearne chuckled. “Very well. I apologize.”

The anger seemed to drain at those simple words and Sgileas shook his head. “I am not going anywhere, Trahearne. I promise. But... I need some time. Alone.”

_Is it something that I have done?_ , Trahearne wondered and remembered once more the look of Sgileas, their hands entwined after a battle, the shy and ashamed eyes averted to avoid his gaze. 

He wanted to ask, but held it back. “Of course.”, Trahearne answered instead. “Then we shall rendezvous in Lion's Arch with the other Orders.”

“I will be there.”, Sgileas nodded, but he chose to stare at the ground between his feet instead of Trahearne. There was nothing more the firstborn could say and he turned and left, felt something heavy pull down his heart and gut. 

_We fight as one_ , he had said, and now those words seemed insensitive, pushing, even. It ached in his chest to think that with those words he had managed to push away Sgileas instead of bringing them closer. It had been the last thing he had wanted, and now he was not sure how he could fix it, especially with his own thoughts and feelings so very uncertain. 

But of one thing he was sure: That he was fond of Sgileas, his strength, the fact that he had managed to come back from such a tremendous battle of heart and mind with both intact, that the young sylvari had dared to feel pain. That he admired him, even if the young sylvari did not see it.

_Please guide him, Pale Mother._ , Trahearne thought as the door to the Dreamers Terrace closed softly behind him.  _It seems I am incapable of doing it right._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feeling, feelings everywhere! Hide before you catch them, too.   
> But who am I kidding. They get you anyway. Hah.  
> Next up: Retaking Claw Island!


	9. Retribution and Redemption

Trahearne was true to his word. Sgileas saw no sign of the firstborn anywhere near the Dreamer's Terrace and part of him regretted sending and pushing the firstborn away – but his feelings were growing stronger and steadier; a grasp around his heart he was not sure he could escape.

So he sought solitude – to cleanse his mind of any thought of the firstborn, to think of the task at hand. He sat in a small hidden glade that was only accessible via a small tunnel filled with water from the lowest level of the Grove, and here he found complete isolation and peace.

Just not within himself.

The pain in his leg had subsided. The first day he had spent resting it on a stool while he lay, reading a book on the history of Orr, but noticed that what Trahearne had told him had summarized it perfectly. Now it was no longer swollen and only ached when he made an awkward movement and when he stood entirely on it.

The sky was still dark from the night, the sun barely rising in the east. He could see the faint smears of red and orange across the sky, harbingers of the day that was coming.

Today the Pact would be formed, and the assault on Claw Island could begin.

Sgileas rose from where he had sat on the ground and listened to the water platter from the small spring in front of him, cascading into a bed of water to the sides. It soothed his chaotic mind and the frustration that grew within him, an anger that he could barely control.

Anger at himself, his weakness, his feelings. He was angry at only one other, and that was Zhaitan. An already sworn enemy who would fall, even if it took Sgileas life to achieve it.

Slowly he made his way back and prepared his mind for the encounter in Lion's Arch that was to come.

  
  


Even though he had left early, he arrived late. The pier was already filled with the Representative's of each order, and even Trahearne was already there. They were bickering so much nobody noticed him approach.

“So, I see Gixx stumbled out of his library, and the Preceptor crawled out of her hole!”, General Almorra grumbled.

“I see you're not letting rationality get in the way of your ignorance, Almorra. How predictable.”, Gixx replied in a sneer.

“Who are you calling ignorant, you twitchy little bookworm?”, Almorra growled.

“Wonderful. I see we're off to a running start. The Order of Whispers needs allies, not infants.”, an Order of Whispers Agent replied haughtily.

“ _Enough!”_ , Sgileas snapped and all heads turned toward him in surprise as he approached. “I see nothing _but_ infants here. What are you doing, bickering and antagonizing one another when our common enemy lurks across the waves?”, Sgileas accused and gestured far out across the water with his hand.

It was made for an embarrassed reaction all around, and shy and awkward glances that were now downcast toward the wooden pier. Sgileas came closer, the attention of everyone intently on him.

“When I joined the Vigil I swore to fight Zhaitan and I will _die_ for Tyria if I must. But I believe that _together_ we can win. That is the reason Trahearne and I asked you to meet us here.  The Vigil has shown tremendous courage in the fight against the dragons. This alliance will require courage as well. Why back down now? The Order of Whispers has seen nations rise and fall. You cannot hide from this threat. You need to make a stand. And who knows more about the dragons than the Priory? Just think of how much there is to learn. Where else, but in Orr?”

“By the whorls of the Eternal Alchemy, you're bold!”, Gixx gasped out. “But… you're correct. Knowledge is useless if it is not used. We shall aid you.”

“The Order of Whispers has worked for generations to bring nations together. We can do no less now. Our blades are yours.”, the Order of Whispers Agent vowed.

“The Vigil fears nothing! Not even ill-tempered, undisciplined louts like these two. We'll join, but I insist there's a decent hierarchy. Who will lead this compact?”, General Almorra demanded.

“Logic dictates that it cannot be a member of any of our orders, lest one be seen as above the other two. Quite a conundrum!”, Gixx supplied.

“I've already considered that. Trahearne has never joined an order, yet he is respected by all of you, and he respects each of you even more. He knows Orr, the land, the enemies we will encounter, and our best bet lies with him.”, Sgileas said stead-fast and when he finally looked at Trahearne, he felt his heart beat harshly in his chest at the gaze of surprise and admiration Trahearne gave him. “Will you lead us?”

“I… I never wanted to be a soldier. I'm only a seeker of truth.”, Trahearne murmured, but he too remembered what the Pale Tree had shown them, what she had said, and with a sigh accepted his fate. “But… yes. I will lead this pact to the gates of Arah, and together, we will see Zhaitan destroyed. First, to Claw Island. Let us send our defiant message straight into the heart of Orr: Tyria stands as one!”

The Representatives saluted him, and Sgileas did, too. He even bowed his head, just so he would not have to meet the firstborn's eyes. But fate was not a friend to him this day and he saw the firstborn approach him and he slowly raised his head.

“You haven spoken like more of a leader than I could ever hope to be.”, Trahearne praised with a smile and Sgileas gulped.

“They would never accept my Command. If I had not joined the Vigil, perhaps they would have, but then this opportunity would never have presented itself. We are fortunate that we formed the Pact with so little difficulty. What lies ahead of us...we will face it together.”

“All my life, I've watched Orr. Studied it. Researched the abominations that Zhaitan spawns. I have avoided the challenge of my Wyld Hunt.”, Trahearne confessed and Sgileas was surprised at the words. That Trahearne would avoid or fear anything. “I hid, always claiming I was not yet ready. I did not think Orr could be cleansed. I feared failure. But you're right. It is time to act. We'll either cleanse the land...or return to it.” The firstborn gave a long weary sigh. “Leading this conjoined force will be a difficult task. This is the destiny the Pale Tree foresaw.”

“You can do it.”, Sgileas encouraged him and his hand twitched, wanted to reach out to Trahearne, but he did not allow it. “I'll be right beside you.”

The words meant more to Trahearne than Sgileas knew, and the firstborn gave him a warm smile that could have melted all the cold Sgileas could conjure. The firstborn had feared that with his words and actions he had pushed the younger sylvari away, but it would appear he was wrong.

It filled him, warm and affectionate, that Sgileas would fight right beside him against this terrible foe that awaited them with large claws and sharp teeth. Without much of a thought he stepped forward and put his hands on Sgileas arms, leaned his head forward and rested his forehead against Sgileas'.

Sgileas froze, his heart in his chest almost exploded and he closed his eyes, tried to ignore his mind that told him that the others were watching them, that they might think -

“Thank you, Sgileas. With you I finally learned that we make our own time, that there is no such thing as being ready.”, Trahearne all but whispered, warm breath ghosting over Sgileas cheek and he lifted his hand weakly, held on to Trahearne's elbows. The firstborn's scent filled his nose, reminding him of warmth, of home, of _comfort_. This wasn't fair. Not fair at all.  “We'll strike down Zhaitan.”

“We fight as one.”, Sgileas replied weakly and they broke apart simultaneously. Trahearne was smiling, and Sgileas was sorting out the swirl of emotions in his chest.

The gesture was one of affection, of friendship, a deep connection and understanding. It showed trust to let someone in so close – and faith to open oneself to another. It meant so much – and so much _more_ to Sgileas that he wanted to evaporate on the spot. 

“Let us form a strategy.”, Trahearne finally announced as though the estranged gazes of those that had watched meant nothing, as though what had occurred was completely normal. “The Vigil Headquarters would make an available location.”

The representative's agreed and moved toward the keep where they spent the rest of the day making a strategy on how to retake Claw Island. 

It was a tedious process, but with all three Orders in on the act, there were so many resources they had access to that the goal of retaking Claw Island seemed a palpable goal. 

Once the plan was forged and set in stone they all rose. “We shall make preparations immediately.”, the Order of whispers promised and departed. 

“We shall do the same.”, the Vigil and Priory announced and left as well. 

The map that lay on the table was already worn from the many figures that had rested on it and the pins that had been put in it. Sgileas nodded thoughtfully and breathed deeply. “Tomorrow.”, he murmured. 

Trahearne stood across from him, and had proven a wise leader. Not because he was a master strategist, a master at intrigue or schemes, a weapon expert or even a sylvari of the people.

No, his wisdom had been to listen to the counsel of others, and decide from there which path would be best. Sgileas had barely intervened – his information was not needed in this discussion at all. His presence here was only mandatory due to his connection to the Vigil and Trahearne. 

He had no extensive knowledge over the troops presences, had barely commanded some of them in his own time, knew little of strategy. But he too had a part in this plan, a great one, as it turned out, and he was confident he could do it. He had to. 

“You should rest.”, Trahearne said and erected himself on the other side of the table, the candle flickering in a small breeze. “We will count on you, tomorrow.”

“This plan is flawless, except for one detail.”, Sgileas remarked thoughtfully and ignored Trahearne's concern. “You are right amidst the danger.”

“I have to be there to command them.” Trahearne explained. “A plan is only a guide – so many things can change on a battlefield. If I am to command them, then my presence is required.”

“That is what a second-in-command should be for.”, Sgileas grumbled, but he knew that such a position did not exist. He sighed once more. “I guess it will have to do.”, he murmured, and his hand rested on the map idly. 

“Are you afraid?”, Trahearne asked, and the question perplexed Sgileas. He met Traherne's yellow glowing eyes in which the light of the candle danced. 

“I am not afraid of death.”, Sgileas answered.

“That was not my question.”

“Then what was your question?”, Sgileas snapped impatiently. 

“Are you afraid of the battle tomorrow? What I meant was...will you be able to rest? Without you our plan will crumble.”

“Your concern is unwarranted.”, Sgileas dead-panned and turned his head away. “I am not afraid of the fight – I am _eager_. This is a battle my body has called for since my failure. My one attempt at redemption and retribution.”

“I meant nothing ill with it.”, Trahearne murmured and Sgileas regretted answering so brashly, but he did not want to take it back. With how very erosive the thin line between them was, Sgileas was afraid every bit of closeness would erase it completely – and he hid behind every mirage of distance he could conjure. 

“Perhaps the fight has me on edge after all.”, Sgileas granted. “I will rest.” Without looking at Trahearne he walked past him and hoped desperately that the firstborn would make no attempt to hold him back. 

“Rest well.”, he heard behind him, but did not turn around. 

Trahearne stared after him and wondered if Sgileas had simply awakened with the character of a rose. A smooth stem, with thorns to cut into your palm if you were not careful. A beautiful flower, and yet dangerous to approach. 

And yet, he could not cast the thought away that it looked like Sgileas was fleeing. From  _him_ . 

  
  


The ride on the boat was quiet and filled with anxiety and nervousness that only grew as the sky turned darker and the corruption permeated the air. 

Sgileas held his weapon tightly, was glad he had discarded the greatsword for a real scythe. With the blade of shadow he had grown used to the instrument anyway, and no special training would be required of him. He turned his wrists idly to warm them before the fight, and tried to focus his mind on the battle to come.

“If looks could kill, Zhaitan would be dead by now.”, Warmaster Efut chuckled at him and he glanced at her.

“I wish it would get the message.”, Sgileas grumbled. “But perhaps a blade will speak louder than any glare.”

The docks were overrun with Undead and among them Sgileas could see new additions wearing Lionguard armor. The ships docked, not before they had been cleared by a few careful elementalists that cleared the undead from the wooden piers with lightning. 

They stormed toward the gate and safely secured the perimeter and Sgileas and a small group mixed with Priory, Vigil and Whisper Agent members went up the slope toward a passage that led toward the signal tower. 

The small priory asura carried a device they called “biomantic siege capacitor”, and in order to amplify its power they had to somehow – the technicalities were lost on Sgileas – tap into the Signal Tower for it to work. 

To say the way was not swarmed would have been a lie. Undead were filling the place and Sgileas and the other priory members made short work of them, whilst the Order of Whispers agents held off any attackers that came too close to the device for comfort.

They made their way up toward the signal tower without any difficulty and the priory asura began to pull out a panel, exchange wires of different color and tapping buttons at a pace Sgileas could not follow. The asura began to speak to herself quite rapidly. “Here's the panel. I have to reverse it, resorcell the amplification, and attach the capacitor. Just keep them off me!”, she insisted, but the the Risen that still remained alive were killed long before they came even close to reaching her. **“** Whoever created this tower's astral circuitry was a total moron!”, she cursed and when a priory member stemmed her hands against her hips the asura looked rueful. “Oh, it was the Priory? …Er, sorry about that. Only a few more seconds… Anyone have some gum? Never mind…Here we go! Oh wait, that didn't do it. Let me try one last thing... Aha. Hold onto your helms! One reconstulated configurer, coming up!"

It made a noise that grew louder and louder, humming and sizzling and then a large beam shot toward the gate and it burst into a thousand splinters. Once the dust had settled Sgileas could already see the Pact moving forward and urged the others to follow, “Come on, we have to regroup!”, he said. “We can't rest yet!”

They regrouped with Trahearne at the gate and the firstborn gave Sgileas a broad smile. “Well done. We have secured the docks. Now we need to retake the ramparts and deploy siege weapons. Then we can cover the sky while we clear the courtyard. We must reach the bridge overlooking the courtyard. From there, I'll be able to command.”

Sgileas nodded. He knew his part in all of this well. “I will get you there.”

Trahearne nodded and the Pact moved swiftly, split up into groups. A small one followed Sgileas and Trahearne toward the central rampart, the others hurried along the walls to the ramparts on the sides and began to fight the risen that occupied it.

The Risen that stood in Sgileas way were quite unfortunate. They were cut down with a swing of his scythe and he rotated it with ease and finesse, was glad that none of the others bothered to be as far in the front as he did. If he had to watch who he was cutting, that would definitely turn into an ordeal.

When the group of undead lay beneath his feet he cast Trahearne and the others behind him a glance. “Up the stairs.”, he gestured and took two steps at a time. The others followed him and the abomination that greeted him on the bridge turned around ever so slowly, gave him a strange, empty look.

“Return to Orr....”, it rumbled low on its chest.

Sgileas called upon the shroud and circled the scythe in his hands, flew forward and struck the creature with decisive consecutive strikes that made it stagger. With a swing of his arm he jumped, cut high at the creatures throat and hit his mark, severing the head from the body with a clean swing.

He landed with a low thud on the wooden planks beneath his feet and the abomination's body thudded down after he had landed with a much louder noise. The essence drifted into the air and circled Sgileas wrist and reluctantly he added it to the others. It would serve him, for now. He had no access to other essences here, and he would need all the power he could collect.

“Whatever are we needed for?”, a vigil crusader complained.

“Stay here and protect Tra-”, Sgileas cut himself off. “Protect the Marshal.”

Trahearne nodded toward him. “I'll coordinate and command from here. Go with Wynnet and retake the siege points. The Plaguebringer must be brought down.”

Sgileas nodded and ran over the bridge toward the other ramparts and stabbed down every undead that crossed his path. Most of them were rather weak, just as he remembered, and it occurred to him that it had been only an unfortunate turn of events that the abomination had actually struck him back then – and that he was not as weak as he had thought.

He saw a member of the priory struggling with one of the Risen and slashed the attacker in half with barely a glance of the body sliding in two and to the floor. The priory member nodded up toward him in thanks.

“I can get this working in two shakes of a lamb's tail.”, the charr replied and Sgileas noticed that he had been working on a siege weapon.

“I've got your back.”, Sgileas said. The engineer worked fast, Sgileas had to admit. In barely a few minuted the first siege weapon was up and running, and in barely half an hour they had run over the ramparts once and checked every siege engine. “Done!”, the charr smiled broadly. “I'll load up the alchemical ammo! Tell Trahearne we're ready to fight that dragon champion!”

Sgileas nodded and glanced toward where Trahearne stood, noticed the blue bubble of a guardian shielding Trahearne away. _At least that,_ Sgileas thought. “We've taken control of the siege points.”, Sgileas yelled over the many noises and Trahearne motioned that he had heard. 

“Clear the courtyard! Push back the Risen horde!”, Trahearne ordered.

The risen had accumulated in the courtyard and were trying to get back up on the ramparts, but the Pact was holding them back fiercely. Sgileas spread his hands out to the sides, pulled out with his magic and called upon all the essences that he could. They came toward him, drew closer until they were sucked in like small planets orbiting a massive star and he gripped his scythe. 

He had always liked showing off, he remembered. It was time to see if he was truly as powerful as he had been. 

He jumped onto the border of the rampart, up into the air and fell below into an army of Risen. While he fell the shroud engulfed him, the essences empowering it significantly and casting a large, dark shadow where his form would be. 

There was nothing tangible for them to attack as the blade of darkness cut through them as he whirled, spikes striking out around him and piercing the risen around him. The momentum carried him for about five circles before he had to regain his balance and the shroud fell from him like a dark veil of smoke. 

It was even better than he had thought. More powerful than he had thought himself to be. Where the horde had stood but a moment ago, he had decimated most of it, and the few that remained were easily cut down by the approaching vigil front. 

He let the staff end of the scythe drop to the ground and leaned his body against it, grinned up at Trahearne even though at this distance he was sure the firstborn could not see. 

A dark shadow passed over their heads and Sgileas lifted his gaze toward the sky, knew that the dragon lurked and waited. 

“Prepare yourselves, troops! Wait for the dragon to come around, then make a coordinated strike. On my order…wait for it…”, there was a long, eerie pause and then the shadow appeared once more. “Fire!”

Loud shots rang through the sky, illuminated it brightly and a loud screech tore through the air that made Sgileas ears ring. Without warning the dragon crashed through the thick mist of corrupted air and clouds, burst down and toward the ground. 

For a few seconds Sgileas could not see it because it had crashed behind the rampart when suddenly the stone broke apart and flew away to the sides. The dragon's body crashed through the rampart and stone wall as though it was made from paper, and Sgileas barely managed to step away toward the side.

Stones cascaded down from above and he dodged the avalanche of rocks, coughed as dust rose up from the earth. The dragon spread its wings and flung rampart parts into the air like a catapult and gave a loud wailing screech. 

It lifted itself onto its feet, one of them right in front of Sgileas, and he saw it rise to full height. In their first encounter he had not been quite so close. Now that he saw how much larger the dragon was, how it towered even over the ramparts and could see its hollow, empty eyes searching for an enemy, he understood why Trahearne had asked if he was afraid. 

“I am not afraid.”, he grit out and gripped his scythe tighter. “You hear me?!”, he yelled loudly and the dragon's head snapped to the side toward him. “I am not afraid!”

The dragon towered high, lifted its leg over Sgileas figure and crashed it down into the dust beneath. Sgileas dodged to the side, moved the scythe nimbly and swiftly with his body, drew it around him and managed to cut into the leg as he dodged away. 

The dragon stepped to the side, tried to land one of its massive legs upon him, but he moved quick as a dagger in the night, a blade coated in shadow. 

From the ramparts Trahearne watched with fearful wide eyes. Sgileas was shrouded, covered in shadow, his form zapped from one place so fast it made the impression he could displace himself. The scythe appeared for barely a second before it cut, only to dissolve into shadow and smoke the next second. The dragon slowly turned into a frenzy at the invulnerable enemy and Trahearne raised his hand. “Fire at will!”, he commanded. “Vigil, Take it down!”

The dragon was so occupied with Sgileas that the shots from the siege weapons blasted against it full force. The body swayed and it growled, the force of the other vigil that started to rush at it from beneath posing a new threat as well.

It opened its jaw wide and made a terrible screech, one that made the vigil back down in fear. Defiantly it raised its long neck and lifted its wings, and then, all of a sudden, Sgileas was right there, right in front of it, his scythe angled behind him. 

“This is the end of the line!”, he yelled. “Zhaitan is next!”

Any human watching what came next would have sworn Grenth himself had made an appearance, for nobody else but a God could possibly possess such power. 

Sgileas engulfed his body in his shroud, the darkness lashing out like whips toward the sides and the scythe cut through the dragon, from one side to the other. And even though his scythe could not have possibly reached, even though he had stood too far away and he was smaller that the dragon, a dark cut cracked over the dragons skin. The dragon that had lifted its front legs stumbled back, wings flapping helplessly as it tried to shoot off into the sky and instead lifted slightly into the air, tilted backwards and then, ever so slowly, the body cascaded down into the waves that surrounded Claw Island with a loud splash and a massive wave. 

The shroud lifted from him and he sought the help of his scythe to secure his wobbly feet, he exhaustion suddenly sapping every strength from him. 

“We did it! We defeated the Plaguebringer!”, the warriors behind Sgileas cheered and roared, the victorious screams coming from all over; the docks, the gate, the ramparts, and mostly, the plaza. 

Sgileas was almost deaf to the cheers. He trotted forward, climbed over the wreckage and debris the dragon had left in its wake toward the beach where the Plaguebringer had disappeared beneath the waves.

Its essence had never appeared, which meant it was alive still. Waiting, lurking, just as it had before. Sgileas did not like leaving an enemy, any enemy, and specifically one as dangerous as this, out there. The blow he had landed had not been enough. 

He waited patiently at the shore, a watcher of the waves should the Plaguebringer rise again, but the waters were silent. There was no movement and Sgileas slowly realized that even though the dragon had gotten away, they had won a great victory today. One that would not have been possible if it were not for Forgal's sacrifice. 

He heard steps behind him wading through the sand and saw Trahearne approach him. The firstborn looked concerned. “We have won. We did it. We recaptured Claw Island—and in so doing, saved Lion's Arch as well. I do not know what lies ahead of us, but for the first time I have hope. Hope that this alliance can save Tyria from the dragons. Hope for the future. Hope...for Orr.”

“This is a momentous day. The tide of history has changed, Trahearne.”, Sgileas nodded.

“Indeed.”, Trahearne agreed. “Many people doubted. Even the orders weren't truly certain it could be done. Never before has Tyria been so united. Let Orr hear the echo of this battle! We can defeat the dragons. And we will.”

“Zhaitan waits at the center of Orr, surrounded by a nation of undead. The battle to destroy the dragon can be won.”

“There is a ruined fortress at the edge of Orr, south of the Shattercleft Hills. From that high cliff you can see the spires of Orr rising beyond the Straits of Devastation. We will take this fort and make it our own. The Pact will rebuild it. We will place our banners, and from there we will strike at the dragon's heart. I will make plans with the leaders of the orders and gather troops at that location.”

Sgileas blinked in confusion. “And...what about me?”

“This is a great time for you to finally rest.”, Trahearne smiled. “Let your leg and ribs fully heal.”

“I can help to build that fortress.”, Sgileas protested.

Trahearne raised a hand to silence him. “I am well aware that you would. I can not forbid your from doing so, I only encourage that after the display of prowess today you deserve to rest.”

Sgileas gripped the scythe tighter. “I was not sure...”, he murmured. “I needed to be sure.”

“What you did was incredibly reckless and dangerous.”, Trahaerne murmured and Sgileas looked at him in dismay.

“Will you lecture me again?”, Sgileas asked and turned his head away like a pouting child.

Trahearne's hand on his arm made all the anger drain away. “You are so easily riled into self-absorption and frustration.”, the firstborn noted with a gentle voice. “But you know that is not what I meant.”

Reluctantly Sgileas met Trahearne's eyes. When the firstborn spoke so gently, so rationally, it was hard for Sgileas to deny him. “Perhaps you are not as clear with your words as you believe.”, Sgileas grumbled.

“Then I shall be more clear,” Trahearne said, “I want you to be careful.”

Sgileas heart spiked in his chest. Was it camaraderie? Friendship? Or was it affection? How did Trahearne manage to walk such a thin line with such ease? So much so that he confused Sgileas time and time again?

“I can not promise that.”, Sgileas answered. “Out path is festered with dangerous enemies. There is no such thing as safety.”

“That may be the truth.”, Trahearne yielded. “But you have power over your own actions. Actions such as jumping off a rampart into an undead horde.”

“I was confident I could-”, Sgileas began to argue, but under Trahearne's gaze he stopped and slowly nodded. “Alright.”

“Also, I spoke briefly with the leaders of each Order, and they agreed that each would designate an individual leader for their troops in Orr, all reporting to me.”, Trahearne added.

“Do we know who those leaders will be?”, Sgileas frowned.

“For the order of Whispers, Doern Velaquez. For the Durmand Priory, Wynnet Fairhaired. Warmaster Efut will organize the Vigil troops.”

“And I am to report to General Almorra.”, Sgileas surmized.

“No.”, Trahearne said and for a second Sgileas was confused. “Your place is at my side as second in command of the Pact. I need you to help me keep all three of the orders unified.”

“ _Me?_ ”, Sgileas could only breathe in disbelief.

“There is no other that could possibly fill this role.”, Trahearne explained. “You have shown you are capable, that your prowess and your strategic abilities will bring a great advantage to the Pact. This position must be given to someone I can trust.”

“I...”, Sgileas stuttered and noticed the smile on Trahearne's lips when he did. “I...am honored.”

“Good.”, Trahearne's smile widened. “As my Second-in-Command, I have a very important task for you before we reach our new outpost.”

Sgileas nodded and gulped the knot in his throat. “And what would that be?”

“The outpost needs a name that will inspire those stationed there. Any ideas? I've been so busy preparing for Claw Island...I haven't given it much thought. Do you have a suggestion?”

All the anxiety that had build suddenly puffed away and Sgileas laughed. So heartily that Trahearne joined in with a chuckle of his own and Sgileas shook his head.

“What a mighty task you have bestowed upon me, Marshal. Why, is it not obvious?”, Sgileas asked with a smile. “We are three groups, coming together as one. How about Fort Trinity?”

Trahearne smiled, too. “That's perfect. Now, I must gather our resources and organize the troops to march south, to the coast of Orr.”

“I am going with you.”, Sgileas insisted. “If there is work to be done, I will not exclude myself from it, and the journey is not exactly a walk in the park.”

“I have told you I could barely keep you away.”, Trahearne shrugged with a smile and then, to Sgileas surprise, he grasped his hand and pulled him away from the beach. “The Plaguebringer is gone. Watch no longer, and let us enjoy this victory.”

The hand burned into his palm and Sgileas felt the frustration once again. Did Trahearne not know? What his actions did to him? Was he playing with him?

_No_ , Sgileas correced himself. Trahearne was not quite so cruel. He was gentle and kind. Stern and serious, but not cruel.

Sgileas entwined his fingers with Trahearnes and refused to think that it meant something, that it could possibly mean anything. They broke from the hold only a few feet away from the other leaders and Sgileas barely listened as Trahearne organized their march to this new Fort Trinity. 

“ _Tell him.”_ , Forgal's spirit urged and Sgileas sighed. 

_I don't know, old man,_ Sgileas thought in dismay.  _I really don't know what to do._

He could only watch Trahearne from afar as he rose like a guiding star in the night, just as their mother had said. A guiding star that was out of his reach. 

  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holla there! I know you are probably already smacking your keyboards against your heads, wondering why these two nut-heads won't get it, but I promise the wait is over. Next chapter. *Sighs contently*  
> Excited? Yeah, me too! I'll get to writing it ASAP, promise! *dashes to grab coffee* Thanks for being here and bearing with me!
> 
> Oh, on a side-note: I do not like deus-ex machina moments as much as the next, but I did not want to drag out the fight with the Plaguebringer. I apologize >_<


	10. Breaking The Glass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's here, ladies and gentlemen. The moment we have all been waiting for. Ghosh, I feel giddy all over. I can honestly say: Enjoy!

Sgileas huffed at the heavy crate that he carried, finally set it down next to all the others. It had been a rough few days, but Fort Trinity was already growing steady and magnificent. They used the designs they had seen in the vision of the future in Orr, thick metal walls that towered high into the sky, barbed wires atop that circled around an energy conduit that powered the outer parts of the fortress.

The combined forces of all the Orders had proven useful; they had worked together and created an outpost in a matter of a week, enough so that it was defensible against a risen horde should the occasion arise.

The Fort was divided into various sections that could be closed off if they were lost, keeping the other parts secure. It was a splendid design that had come from collaboration – a sign of exactly what was possible for all of them.

Sgileas had helped wherever he could, especially when Trahearne was not looking. Which was easier to do of late, since Trahearne was always involved in some discussion with someone important, and now that Sgileas thought about it, he had not seen the firstborn for two days.

It was good, that way. The distance had made it easier for Sgileas to cope and get a hold of his feelings. He exited the small storage chamber, a room in which he spent a lot of time in to register all the crates that arrived, look through the contents and assign them if they were needed elsewhere.

He brushed his hands on the hem of his trousers, dark smears from oil and the engines clinging to his fingers. The stains came with the terrain, he had found, and he did not mind them at all.

He slowly ascended the command center, a small platform lifted into the air, a spiral stair leading up toward it. He could see various heads peeking over the edge, but discern none of them. Slowly he drew closer and finally stood on the platform, approached the large table that everyone stood around.

Upon arrival a few turned their heads, engineers and workers Sgileas did not know, but he knew it was about the construction of the docks and pier, judging from the map. And right at the head of the table stood Trahearne, who had taken the role of Marshal with such confidence that nobody had been left to doubt he had not been made for this task.

“Those docks need to hold, even if the undead come from the water.”, Trahearne was instructing and lifted his gaze only briefly, but once he had Sgileas saw the firstborn smile and the eyes lingered. “Ah, Commander. Have the shipments arrived?”

“Yes, and they are ready. They are in the Storageroom six, ready for deployment.”

“Wonderful.”, Trahearne erected himself. “Then I suggest we get started immediately, now that the supplies are here.”

The workers and engineers nodded, saluted and then moved down the stair with their boots clicking over the metal. Sgileas watched after them, was desperately trying to find some excuse to leave.

“How are you?”, Trahearne asked and Sgileas slowly turned his head to look at him and shrugged.

“There is a lot to do.”, Sgileas evaded the question. To say he was “fine” or “good” or even “wonderful” was simply a lie. When he was not focused on a task, he would hear Forgal's laughter in his ear. _“Tell him, you lump.”_ , the norn would say, but Sgileas was afraid. He was afraid, and a coward, all in one.

“I have seen you moving around the storages.”, Trahearne smiled. “If I remember correctly, there was an agreement that you would rest.”

“It hardly matters now.”, Sgileas dead-panned and folded his hands in front of his chest. His leg had no longer issued any pain, and his ribs only did so on occasion. “There is still much to do.”

“Indeed.”, Trahearne answered carefully, noticed already that the edge of frustration was drawing closer for Sgileas again. He would have to tread carefully now. “Fort Trinity is prospering, and in a couple of weeks I believe even the smallest blemish will be repaired. The overhauling of this Fort is essential to our assault on Orr, and eventually Arah.”

Sgileas knew all of that already and leaned over the map, stared at the mechanical drawings and architecture designs. In the time he had spent here, some of the Charr had been very helpful and explained to him how to read such a map. “I think the towers should be fortified as soon as the constructions of the docks is complete. Our supplies may come by ship, but it means nothing if we can not spot an enemy. Have we a way to defend the underwater gate yet?”

“We have. It is secured with enchantments and sealed tight. It is guarded day and night, and any tampering with it will alert the entire fort.”

“Good.”, Sgileas murmured. “I would rather not wake in the middle of the night to an undead shark attack. The Pale Tree knows we have had one too many of those.”

“Fruitless ones.”, Trahearne reminded him with a smile. He wanted to ask why Sgileas shirked their time together, but then again the answer to that would be obvious, once again. Trahearne did not want that. For them to drift apart like this. Their Wyld Hunts were linked, destiny's entwined, yet it seemed to not be enough. _How do we fight as one when we drift apart?_

“A new shipment arrives soon.”, Sgileas said, and there it was again. Running away, fleeing, shirking. And Trahearne did not have the heart to keep Sgileas here, to speak about what lay on his heart.

“Of course.”, Trahearne nodded, and could not keep the slight disappointment from his voice.

Sgileas nodded toward him. “Marshal.”

“Commander.”

The steps on the stairs were deafeningly loud. Trahearne leaned his elbows onto the table and stared blankly at the map in front of him. He knew very well the new shipment was due to arrive in a couple of hours, that there was no need to rush.

He sighed. The fight against Zhaitan was only beginning, they had formed the Pact, had proven a strong force to be reckoned with. They had finally had a great victory against Zhaitan when they had pushed the dragon from Claw Island, and here it seemed that the victory had cost them dearly.

That for some reason Trahearne had lost Sgileas along the way, that the young necromancer had pushed him away out of fear. Was it truly fear? He tried to imagine what it must be like to be in Sgileas head, how the young sylvari must feel. If Sgileas had a crush as Trahearne expected, then why was Sgileas not saying anything? Was was he running away instead?

An how did _he_ feel about all of this? Trahearne admired Sgileas, every fiber of him. The strength, the prowess, the logical and irrefutable mind. That rough edge the sylvari displayed when impatient and annoyed. Even the arrogance was sometimes endearing, if a little testing in terms of Trahearne's patience.

But Sgileas had shown so many virtues, so many commendable traits. He had shown he could lead, hold back and bite back his tongue in an inappropriate moment, could show sympathy and compassion if need be. The he was reliable, and a great ally and friend. He had an unspoken and irrefutable dedication to the Pale Tree, and cared deeply for the fate of Tyria and all its inhabitants.

Trahearne wanted to know the young sylvari more, realized that he had tested Sgileas whenever he had taken his hand, or especially when he had brought them close enough for their foreheads to lean against one another. Somehow, in that moment, it had been an innocent motion on Trahearne's part, but he realized what kind of turmoil he must have inflicted on Sgileas in that moment.

It was no wonder that Sgileas sought seclusion. That when Trahearne continued as innocently as he had, he slowly tore Sgileas into pieces.

That had not been his intention, yet he had done it. And there was only one things Trahearne could do to redeem it all. He lifted himself and took a deep breath before he descended the stairs, a clear destination in mind.

  


Sgileas rushed over the ground, dust whirling up as he went. The storage room door was open and he slipped inside, closed it behind him with a soft click. Artificial torches cast a yellow light through the room that were actually powered by electricity, and Sgileas studied the various crates, recited in his head what was on which just so his mind was occupied.

“Metal gears, an engine, a conductor – I think, a capacitor, some matrix the asura told me to be careful with, staples...who needs that many staples?”, Sgileas asked himself, a small habit that he had acquired, just so that he heard a voice, so that he could not get distracted. He grabbed a small list of the inventory and sat down on a box, skimmed over the items listened there, mentally created a map and thought where he had placed them.

“Corner. Next to the large gears. This...”, he rubbed his head. “Ah, yes. Bottom right. Middle section. And what are you doing here?”, he asked the item on the list, squinted his eyes just to be sure. “You are not even supposed to be here.”

He glanced around, knew exactly where the box was. He had a system of his own, one that had been left undisturbed by the Pact. The unfortunate asura that had tried to establish his own system was probably still plagued by nightmares by Sgileas outburst.

This was all he had, right now. All that he could do until the fight against Zhaitan finally began. _A few more weeks_ , he told himself and began to shuffle the boxes carefully, the one he sought in the last row, second line, at the very top. He pulled the boxes away enough to create a lane he and the box would fit through and climbed up, squeezed through the spot when suddenly the door behind him opened.

His hands were already lifted to grasp the box and he felt the carton underneath his palm when he turned his head and felt the box slip. Hurriedly he turned back and caught it against his chest, stumbled backwards and fell onto a pair of wooden boxes.

He craned his neck and saw Trahearne, upside down, staring at him in worry and shock. “Are you alright?”, the firstborn asked and Sgileas nodded, was glad his body was large enough that his head had no longer hit the box. The headache would have been a pain to endure. He held the smaller box close to his chest and frowned at Trahearne, still glancing at him from where he lay atop the two wooden boxes.

“What are you doing here?”, Sgileas asked. Trahearne approached, but the wooden boxes beneath Sgileas were high enough that he could not see the firstborn's feet. Trahearne took the package from his fingers and inspected it.

“Is this not part of the architecture apartment?”, Trahearne asked when he inspected the label and Sgileas growled in annoyance, finally lifted himself, turned and jumped to the ground.

“I know, which is why I was retrieving it. Someone thought it must be funny to simply tamper with my inventory.” He gestured toward the parchment where a last line had been added, said package that Trahearne held, written by a hand that was not Sgileas'.

“You are such a ferocious archivist.”, Trahearne smiled. “The Priory would be proud to have you.”

“I simply like a working system.”, Sgileas replied curtly and held out his hand to take the package back and Trahearne obliged. Sgileas placed it at the far front and was already beginning to shuffle the boxes to their originally designated spots.

“I would like to speak with you.”, Trahearne suddenly said and Sgileas ignored the sudden cold that flushed into his limps. He placed the box in his hands back where it belonged and then slowly turned to look at Trahearne.

“Well.”, Sgileas said and wondered why he suddenly felt so nervous. “I am listening.”

It was suddenly too small. The storage room could easily fit twenty people if they squeezed together, but with the metal door closed and the boxes skimming the room to move in, Sgileas suddenly felt trapped.

“I will have to be direct.”, Trahearne warned, but it was said in a careful tone, one that made the anxiety grow in Sgileas chest. “If that's alright with you.”

“Spill it out.”, Sgileas said, more harshly than necessary, but ferocity was the only defense he had. Sadly, it did not work on Trahearne. The firstborn remained cool and collected, just a slight hint of hesitation in his features and posture.

“I have noticed some signals. From you.”

Sgileas stood frozen. By the Pale Tree, they could not speak of this. They could not. Why was Trahearne suddenly intent on speaking about it?

“They will not interfere with my position.”, Sgileas fumbled for words. He did not want – could not deny it. What would the use of that be? “If you are worried they will compromise my integrity, I can reassure you they won't. Or do you think that they do? Is that it?”

“No.”, Trahearne quickly said and stepped closer and when he lifted his hand Sgileas body tensed. It came to rest atop his arm, a gesture of warmth, comfort, but Sgileas could not take it. “No, that is-”

Sgileas brushed the hand away and took a step back. The action stunned Trahearne into silence and the young necromancer glared at the ground, fought the terrible, nauseating feeling in his stomach that welled up. “Why won't you stop?”, he grit out, felt the frustration welling up inside him. “I am _trying_ to-”, he cut himself off when he lifted his head to glare at Trahearne, but the firstborns eyes were widened in shock and he looked as though he might speak. “You have no idea what it does to me.”, Sgileas brought out, made himself look at Trahearne, and with every moment the anger seemed to grow. “I have been fighting this for longer than you realize, and you _jeopardize_ everything.”, Sgileas accused. “I've had these feelings for so long, and I hate them, I loathe myself for them, I know they can't be _right_.”

“Sgileas.”, Trahearne's voice broke through the words, and the firstborn looked sat, but his tone was gentle. “There is nothing wrong with that. I want to help you-” Trahearne had lifted his hand once more, to reach out, and Sgileas gripped his wrist tightly and in the blink of any eye pushed him back against the metal door that clanked loudly when Trahearne's back met it.

Sgileas chest heaved and he tried to regain control. He grabbed Trahearnes wrist and arm, pushed them tightly against the metal, was so close that the firstborns scent filled his nostrils, that he could see the look of surprise from close up enough to notice how the pattern moved with every change of his features.

“You don't understand.”, Sgileas grit out and gripped harder. The words flowed from his mouth, a force that was unstoppable. All the frustration he had carried within him suddenly broke away like a dam. “I've admired you from the day I awakened. I've watched you and yearned your approval, until I realized that it was no longer admiration that I sought. That I craved something different. I ache to be with you, I want to be beside you. Not as another sylvari, not as a warrior, not as just a _friend_.” His voice was edged with self-hatred as the words poured out. “I am selfish. And arrogant. I want to be more. I want-”, he finally cut himself off and gulped and suddenly, when he realized what he had just said, that he had said all of that to Trahearne, right into his face, he felt a deep, dark pit that opened in his chest.

He turned his head away with a pained expression, but when he released the hold on Trahearne's arm and wrist, the firstborn grabbed his arms in return, held him stronger than Sgileas would have given him credit for.

“Don't run away again.”, Trahearne begged him. “Please, Sgileas.”

Sgileas shook his head. “I can't- By the Pale Tree.”, he murmured, could not believe what he had just said.

“I don't mind, Sgileas.”, Trahearne said, and the words took a few seconds for Sgileas to process. When he finally did he looked up at Trahearne, was looking for a hint of dishonesty in the firstborns eyes or features. “I do not mind this at all.”

“Don't.”, Sgileas warned, but Trahearne held him, kept him from running again. “Don't do this to me. You don't know what you are asking.” He gripped Trahearne's elbows tightly, held on to him like a dying man to a cliff.

“Show me.”

Sgileas heart spiked, and for a second he was not sure he had heard right. He looked at Trahearne in utter disbelief, felt warmth spread into his belly. Trahearne gripped his arms tighter and their eyes locked.

“Show me.”, Trahearne repeated, and this time there was no mistaking it. The words had come from Trahearne's mouth and Sgileas fought the desire for barely a second with his mind, but the protest was drowned out, his barricades snapped, the dam broke completely.

He gripped Trahearne tightly to the point of pain and surged forward, pushed his own lips against those of the firstborn harshly. He heard Trahearne gasp in surprise and pushed against him, pressed his whole body against the firstborn, wanted to feel what it was like.

The lips were soft, wonderful and soft and tasted sweet like honey, so sweet Sgileas wanted to drown in it. He raised his hands without any effort, grasped into the ferns on Trahearne's head and pulled him down, deepened the kiss imperiously.

His chest pressed against Trahearne's tightly, squeezed the body of the firstborn against the door and himself and he pushed his leg in between Trahearne's, felt Trahearne's mouth opening and a gasp escape him.

Sgileas captured the sound with his lips, pressed his thigh tightly against the heat of Trahearnes body and felt the firstborns body tremble against him, but he couldn't stop. He didn't want to.

But the handle of the door was turned and someone tried to open it and failed, then a loud knock appeared from the other side and suddenly reality snapped back into place and Sgileas breathed heavily against Trahearne, met the gleaming yellow eyes with a desirous gaze.

“Open up already!”, an asura demanded from the other side.

“This is your one and only warning.”, Sgileas growled and heard the asura squeak in surprise. “Leave. _Right now_.”

The hurried steps were umistakeable and Trahearne chuckled lightly, a gentle rush of air caressing over Sgileas cheeks. The interruption had snapped Sgileas mind back into place and he gulped, brought some distance between himself and Trahearne, could not meet the firstborns eyes and averted them almost shyly.

“That surely will keep any intruders away.”, Trahearne smiled.

“Trahearne, that...”, Sgileas tried and gulped once more. “If you want to leave, I understand. I will have no hard feelings.”

Trahearne stepped closer and grasped Sgileas cheeks gently, titled his chin up to meet his eyes. “I want this, Sgileas.”, the firstborn smiled, and Sgileas melted at the words. Every insecurity burned away into a molten river of lava that seared in his veins. To seal the words Trahearne leaned down and kissed Sgileas on the lips longingly and Sgileas heard himself sigh, brought his arms up to clutch at Trahearnes back.

The kiss was less heated, more chaste, the perfect seal to the bond that the sylvari had finally admitted to. It was heartfelt, lips moving against one another, tasting, exploring and only when their lungs protested did they break apart to breathe in air.

Sgileas pulled Trahearne close into an embrace and lingered in the warmth and comfort the touch presented, felt Trahearne's arms circle and pull him in tighter. He sighed against Trahearne's neck and marveled at the development, and could not recall a single moment in his life where he had been this content.

 _Nobody will stand against us_ , Sgileas thought and pulled Trahearne closer. _Zhaitan will fall._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And? And? AND? Well? Did you like it? Did you not like it? Tell me in the comments :D Ghosh I think it's the coffee but I feel like bouncing all over the place. THEY ARE FINALLY TOGETHER! WOHOO!  
> Now that we have reached the peak of this series (Because this chapter is what I have been working toward), the updates might not be quite as fast from now on, but I think I'll continue this until the death of Zhaitan. (And I have to admit there are two ideas about the Shade/Canach business that have been swirling in my head begging to be let out)  
> Bear with me, and I promise the coming chapters will be so fluffy that you will want to cuddle your warmest and cuddliest blanket and squeal. That's what I do, usually.  
> I love you guys, and your comments have given me such a great boost in motivation and encouragement. Thank you. Lessthanthree, ~S


	11. Deception

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the personal story of "Shell Shock" even though in a previous chapter Sgileas told the Pale Tree he was afraid of an innocent dying. But I found the PS(Personal Story) of Shell Shock more intriguing since I had not played that before - and ghosh if that was not tragic. I am well aware that I altered it, and that Sgileas did not loose the faith of his comrades at all because he's just a badass, but it makes sense to me that someone prone to magic would feel such a large alteration. You can't fool Sgileas that easily.  
> Also *takes deep breath* this might be a bit weird, but I have had some trouble imagining who actually takes dominance in this relationship. I'd like your opinion on it in the comments, if you have a mind :-)  
> Alrighty, enough ranting. Let's get the show on the road! Enjoy!

It felt surreal still when Sgileas woke the next day in his hammock and got ready to meet up with Trahearne. Now that they were - Sgileas did not know what to call it, but together seemed a fit description – he felt none of the reluctance to meet the firstborn. Quite the contrary, in fact. He was eager to see Trahearne, to speak with him, just to be with him, even though their admission to this connection made him wonder about a lot of other things as well, things he tried to push into the back of his mind because they had no place among the busy life of the Pact and its creation.

He ascended the stairs, his scythe clipped into the holster on his back and saw that he was among the last to arrive. Trahearne was already there – he always was the first to arrive and the last to leave.

The firstborn stood at the head of the table and he glanced up when Sgileas approached, gave him a warm, greeting smile. “We are complete. You may begin, Agent.”

A woman in Order of Whispers attire nodded and Sgileas stood beside Trahearne, focused his mind on the human which was hard to do with how close he knew he was to Trahearne. He would only have to reach out and their hands would touch. “We have various sources that have all reported one and the same: The krait possess a powerful magical artifact which they protect fiercely, and it is able to repel Zhaitans effects on the dead. Those that die in its range do not rise again.”

“Then it goes without saying that such an artifact would prove a great asset to us.”, a priory member murmured. “It must be powerful to negate the effects of an Elder Dragon.”

“We will find out how it works after.”, a vigil member cut in. “For now we should discuss a strategy to retrieve it.”

“The artifact is in fact an orb.”, the human woman clarified. “And the Krait move it from one of their outpost to the next. We can intercept it as they are moving it.”

“A sound strategy. Do we know when and where they will moving it to?”, Trahearne asked and the Order of Whispers Agent nodded.

“We do, Marshal.”

“Then make your preparations. Commander, there have been communication problems between Fort Trinity and our Pact Camp near Sootberme. If you-”

Sgileas nodded toward him. “I'll investigate it.”

“Thank you.”, Trahearne smiled. “Report back as soon as you know more. Let's get moving, everyone, there is much to do.”

Sgileas waited until the others had departed and were out of sight and earshot before he approached Trahearne who was already watching him curiously, but other than that the firstborn looked perfectly relaxed, if a little tired.

Sgileas tilted his head, his eyes searching for a sign of exhaustion in Trahearne's and even though the firstborn formidably tried to hide it, it was still evident upon closer investigation.

“You should rest.”, he said and Trahearne's smile did not falter as he shook his head.

“I appreciate the sentiment, Sgileas, but there is too much to do. Fort Trinity is still under construction, and I have heard from various scouts that there are probing attacks on our camps outside, and scouts that are sent far into enemy territory have not returned. I fear something is brooding and that the Undead are preparing for an attack.”

Sgileas frowned. “Then perhaps I should stay. If Fort Trinity is in danger -”

“Then I need the communication between Fort Trinity and the camps to work – without fault. If the Risen should attack us, I am sure we can hold on until help arrives.”

“You mean until I arrive.”, Sgileas grinned and Trahearne chuckled.

“Yes, we will hold out until you arrive. Which also means you should make haste and return as soon as the problem is solved.”

“I will.”, Sgileas murmured and grasped Trahearne's hand, and without much thought he lifted it and brought the knuckles against his lips, planted a fleeting, soft kiss there that meant more than any words he could form could ever convey.

He turned around before he could see the look of surprise on Trahearne's features and disappeared with a flap of his robe down the stairs and his heart beating high into his throat.

  
  


“Warmaster Caisson?”, Sgileas asked as he approached. “Trahearne said you're having communication problems. I'm here to help.”

“Glad to hear it. This duty is too dangerous for crossed signals.”, the Warmaster said. “I have the best-trained artillery crews in the entire Pact, but they keep making rookie mistakes. I don't get it. There's a mortar team heading out right now. Their target is a horde of undead massing in the southwest. Join the team, escort them to the kill zone, and help them set up. I'd like to see a mission go smoothly for a change.” The warmaster followed him for a few steps before the female human gave him a curious, searching look.

“Tell me about the problems you've been having.”, he ordered before she could ask anything unrelated.

“It's small stuff that has big impacts. Rations go missing, inventories come out miscounted, orders are lost or misstated. It's like we're jinxed.”

“Is it a question of preparation?”, he frowned.

“My troops are well trained and well disciplined, but an army is a huge, complicated machine. It can't function if logistics and supplies aren't reliable.”

“It is a dangerous situation.”

“It is.”, she agreed, and Sgileas was glad that she was made from Vigil steel – the Vigil never took it personally like others might. “It's killing the morale, and soon it'll start killing soldiers. If the Pact is going to survive, it needs to function better from the top down.”

“I'll see what I can do to sort this out.”, Sgileas promised and she gave him a grateful nod, but the look of curiosity remained until she finally said,

“Claw Island was a tough win, wasn't it? We all lost friends that day.”, she said and he found himself wishing to somehow stop her rambling. “I heard you handled yourself well at Claw Island. Wish I could have been there to help. Quite a successful career for someone so young. I see why Trahearne relies on you.”

At that Sgileas blinked at her with frown. “Of course he does.”, Sgileas dead-panned and she grinned, but made no comment.

The artillery crew stood at the ready as they approached. “Crusader Blackpowder. Status report. “, Warmaster Caison issued.

“Mortars loaded and ready for deployment, Warmaster.”

“Good. Trahearne's second-in-command will handle operations on this mission. You take care of logistics, but the commander calls the shots. Clear? Good. Now move out.”

“You heard the warmaster. Move out!”

It was all easy – too easy, in fact. So easy that it made Sgileas skin prickle and the foliage atop his head itch. The stood ready and were building up the mortars when the Crusader informed him. “The mortars are in position, and the target is in range. Standing by for orders, Commander.”

But Sgileas stepped forward with a frown. Communication problems, slip-ups...None of this seemed wrong at all, and yet a voice inside his head screamed that he should be cautious.

“Commander?”

“Hold your fire.”, Sgileas ordered and squinted his eyes, looked down upon the undead that came marching toward them in the far distance. Easy targets for the mortars, no doubt.

Then why? He sniffed the air and the others around him cast him a strange glance as though he had lost his mind. But there, faintly, he could scent the magic in the air, powerful enough that it drafted toward them from the distance.

“Commander?”, the Crusader asked again and Sgileas threw him a sharp look.

“You will fire on my command, and only on my command. Have I given it? No? Then _stand down_.” There was a small pause and then he added, “My mentor once said “There's a time for strategy, and there's a time for kicking the door down.”, and _this_ is a time for strategy.”

The Crusader looked like he had bitten on something bile and bit back any comment. Good for him, too, because Sgileas was not in the mood to argue. When the Warmaster opened her mouth Sgileas shut her up with a movement of his hand.

“Do you see those undead down there?”, Sgileas asked and the Warmaster nodded. “Good. Now are you prone to any magic? Dark, light, elemental?”

The Warmaster shook her head and opened her mouth, but he gestured for her to be quiet once more. 

“ _I_ on the other hand am. And I can sense powerful magic down there. Powerful enough to lap up here like a wave of water crushing against a cliff. Now if any of you can tell me why a harmless troop of undead should be shrouded with such magic, I would like to hear it.”

“And what is it?”, the Warmaster asked, slowly getting where he was going. 

“I do not know. Perhaps they are concealing a more powerful enemy, perhaps a shield of some sort, or an artifact they carry. I need a scout to-”, but whatever he had meant to say did in his throat when a mirage broke away as soon as the undead reached a certain line, and suddenly Pact members appeared where Risen had been, and then behind them came a line of Risen that were attacking the Pact members. “Open fire on the Risen.”, Sgileas ordered. “Medics and the rest of you help the wounded.”

“By Balthazar, what was that?”, the Warmaster breathed and Sgileas eyes narrowed.

“Someone concealed the Pact Members in the hope that we would open fire and kill them.”

“I had not known such magic exists.”, the Warmaster murmured.

“Mesmers.”, Sgileas grumbled. He had seen their tricks, or part of them, at least, in his Dream, but never would have thought he would see it one day. “They are powerful manipulators that can distort reality and illusion. If Zhaitan has such a powerful servant, it would explain your communication problems.”

“That would be gravely disturbing.”, the Warmaster grumbled and then Sgileas lifted his hand.

“Cease fire. Let us join and see if any Risen remain.”

The Pact members were badly injured and tattered from their escape from the undead, and an especially grumpy charr accused Sgileas, “Smodur's eye, I thought you would leave us for dead. How long did you plan on waiting to fire? Good men died to your incompetence!”

“All of you would have been dead if I had opened fire sooner.”, Sgileas growled back. “Now remember your position, _soldier_ , or I'll remember that you questioned a superior officer's judgment.”

She grumbled something under her breath, but was content to keep it low enough so that Sgileas did not hear, and that was enough for him. The charr stumbled back to camp alongside a medic, but turned around after a few steps.

“Half of my force is still in the volcano.”, she informed him. “They are waiting for me to extract them.”

“Do not worry.”, Sgileas said. “I will get them out.”

The charr gave him a menacing look and then followed the medic, and Sgileas stared after her for a few more seconds before he turned to the Warmaster.

“If that Charr is right, then there is a squad in Mount Mealstorm waiting for extraction. I'll go, but I want you to inform Trahearne of what happened here.”

“That “Charr” was Tactician Syska.”, the Warrmaster told him.

“Do you know anything about her operation inside the Mountain?”

“No. Something about an energy resource for Fort Trinity, but I was not briefed on the details.”

“Very well. Inform Trahearne. If I am not back by nightfall, send a squad.”

He marched toward the large mountain and tried to discern why he felt uneasy, and the closer he stepped to the mountain the larger it seemed to loom, the higher it seemed to climb into the sky.

The Mountain was every bit as dangerous as one might think a volcano to be: Hot, air humid and suffocating, the rocks growing hotter with each step inside. 

Sgileas tread carefully and found the squad soon enough, chattering in a small cavern they had secured.

“I hate waiting like this. Might as well have targets painted on our faces.”

“Pipe down. Syska said to stay put.”

“We should break out the rations and have a cookout. Nothing like magma-roasted moa wings.”

“Brilliant. Why don't we just send an invitation: "Hey, destroyes. Come and get us."

“Any destroyers that come to get me will wind up gravel and dust.”

They all jolted into a standing position when Sgileas approached and lowered their weapons as well.

“Who are you? Where's Syska? I hope you have our marching orders. We've been stuck here forever, and we've got fellow soldiers to rescue.”, one of them grumbled. They looked like they had been stationed here a while, dust and ash had gathered over their equipment, and dirt and grime covered their guises.

“I'm Trahearne's second-in-command, Sgileas. Syska was injured. I came to get you out. You said there are others?”

“Syska said there's another squad deep in. She ordered us to stand by until she came back with a stronger force. That was a while ago.”

“Yeah. And we're hungry. We were about to start snacking on Bekk's big brain here.”, another chirped in.

“One spoonful from my capacious cranium would elevate your intelligence to the point of seeing what a no-helper you are. In your anguish, you'd end it all.”, the asura dead-panned, and Sgilead thought right then that he liked his attitude.

“That's enough idle talk. Right now, we need to find the missing squad. Lead on, Commander. We're with you. We are glad to see a friendly face. It means Syska didn't completely forget about us. Frankly, this whole mission is starting to feel like amateur hour.” 

They all marched through the lava carved tunnels and Sgileas eyed his surroundings suspiciously. They had menationed Destroyers, after all. “I need some information.”

“I'll tell you what I know.”, the Magister shrugged.

“What's your mission here?”

“An asuran research krewe is trying to harness the volcano's power. If they succeed, the Pact will have an unlimited source of geothermal and geothaumic energy. We're here to protect the asura workers...I think. Syska wasn't real clear on the details. She ordered us to set up a perimeter and patrol the mountain, inside and out.”

“So there are still Pact soldiers inside?”

“Affirmative. We followed Syska's orders and split into two squads. We lost contact with the internal squad awhile ago, but we weren't free to investigate.”

“You are now.”, Sgileas grinned, but turned serious the next second. “Tell me about Tactician Syska.”

“She doesn't fraternize with her fellow soldiers much, but she knows her stuff...usually. Lately, she hasn't been at her best. She's been distracted—secretive even.”

Secretive. Changed. Now that was a development that fit perfectly into everything Sgileas had seen – from the miscommunication to the mesmer illusion to the grumpy charr that had been grumpy at him for nor firing.

But why? Was she a spy? If she managed to disrupt the camp like this then this would prove for a good place to strike for Zhaitan, and hence open up passage to Fort Trinity.

The whole rescue operation was for naught. After fighting various small destroyers that had crossed their path, they finally found the other squad, all injured and unmoving just up ahead down a slope, but as they approached there was the sound of glass and crystal breaking and shattering, and the bodies disappeared into a fine, purple mist.

“Looks like you're thinking what I'm thinking—that was not normal, and this is a set up.”. The asura grumbled when he looked up at Sgileas. Yeah. He _did_ like this asura.

“Those "soldiers" were bait, weren't they? What was Syska doing, sending us into a trap like this? She's smarter than this.”

“She's been off her game lately. I don't mind dying for a good cause, but this is just plain careless. Or criminal.”

“Hang on. You think Syska sent us here to die on purpose? That's not fair. Maybe she was tricked into doing it.”

“Either way, we're the ones in the meat grinder. And both the jaws of this trap haven't fully snapped shut yet.”

“I am not here to let it snap shut.”, Sgileas finally cut in and when the others gave him surprised glances and raised eyebrows, he shrugged. “Come on. Let us get out of here before the destroyers swarm on us. That noise must have attracted them, or some.”

It was as he had said: The destroyers came swarming toward them as soon as they made their way down the slope, but they managed to break through and escape with nothing but a few scratches, scorch marks, and one especially grumpy norn who had singed his eyebrows.

Once outside the female human finally seemed to realize it, too. “Okay, I'm convinced. Somebody doesn't want us to survive this mission.”

“And Syska's the one who put us here. So where do we go from here?”, the charr asked.

“Back to base, obviously., the asura rolled his eyes. “Confront Syska if you like, but it's straight to Warmaster Caisson for me.”

“Marshal Trahearne needs to know about this. Hester, I need you to deliver a message to him. Tell him I need to meet with him in person.”

“Done. He's due to inspect the fortifications at Oxbow Isle. I'll set the meeting for there.”, the human nodded. **“** And thanks again for the save, Commander. I'm not sure how we got into this mess, but I know you pulled us out.”

“If you find out who's responsible for us being here—Syska or whoever—let us know. Or just kill them horribly, and tell us about it.”, the Charr grinned, revealing a pair of sharp talons.

“Stay safe.”, was all Sgileas said and watched them head off toward the camp.

A trap, a mesmer illusion, and a strangely changed charr officer who seemed off lately? Trahearne needed to know about this, but Sgileas suspected that if this Syska had gone through all the trouble to disrupt the pact, her claws might be deeper than Sgileas imagined.

He was worried for Trahearne, because there was no other target for her instead. With Trahearne coming to meet him the firstborn was in grave danger, one that Sgileas was intent on keeping the firstborn away from. It was paramount that she did not succeed in whatever he mission was, especially if she was after Trahearne.

  
  


Sgileas was pacing the pier in nervous anticipation, his eyes staring down at the water for any movement beneath the waves until finally he saw the small craft move beneath the surface and then finally dock at the pier.

Trahearne exited and Sgileas breathed a sigh of relief that the firstborn had arrived unharmed – part of him had felt foolish to ask for a meeting with Trahearne out here where he was not safe.

“Sgileas.”, Trahearne smiled, but the smile faded slowly, turning into a frown. “I got your message. You have my attention. What's so dire that it demands a face-to-face meeting?”

“I believe that a Pact officer named Syska has been compromised by the enemy.”

“I know Syska.”, Traheane murmured. “She filed an angry report about how you gave the order for mortar teams to fire on her soldiers.”

Sgileas waved with his hand. “I believe that's part of the setup. There was a shroud covering the undead, and only because I waited it was revealed that it was Syska's troop, being attacked by undead. Then Syska sent me on a mission that turned out to be a trap. Her own troops will tell you she's acting strangely. This could be the source of the communication problems.”

“That is grave news, and an even greater accusation.”, Traheane murmured. “I'll investigate. Your instincts have proven reliable so far. Come, walk with me while I gather my thoughts.”

Sgileas held up a hand and pushed it against Trahearne's chest and stopped the firstborn in his tracks. “It isn't safe.”, Sgileas said gravely. “I would rather you return to Fort Trinity immediately.”

Trahearne chuckled and placed his own hand atop Sgileas and a pulse of warmth spread through him. “I appreciate your concern, but I still have to check this outpost, and whatever could happen to me while you are here?”

Sgileas felt pride fill his chest, but just as the pride grew, so grew his fear and doubt. “Trahearne...”, Sgileas sighed, but Traheane spoke before he could find the right words,

“There has to be a reason behind this deception. We can find out what it is.”, he took Sgileas hand and gentle pulled it from his chest, engulfed his in his warm palm and pulled him along. “We formed the Pact so quickly. One of Zhaitan's agents could've easily slipped in. What does Syska gain from discrediting you? Why sacrifice her own troops?” Trahearne loosened his hold on Sgileas grip, and Sgileas watched him with fascination and awe. This image was befitting of Trahearne, thoughtful and wondering. “If she did use illusion, she's either a mesmer or in league with one. Mesmer magic is not my area of expertise.”

“Neither are they mine, but the magic...it was unmistakeable.”

Trahearne suddenly stood still and narrowed his eyes at the sky and Sgileas followed his gaze. “Wait...that's an Orrian eagle. Why is it here, so far from Orr?”

The eagle circled on large wings and as soon as it landed was swarmed by pact soldiers that took it down. Sgileas did not dare approach, did not dare leave Trahearne's side even for a second. A fear coiled in his belly, a fear that what had happened once could happen again, that he could loose...

He shook his head. He could not think of it, not now.

“Stay alert. If that was some kind of scout, our mesmer enemy may have more surprises for us.”, Trahearne warned and the Pact soldiers rallied back to him when risen Krais slithered from the waters and beaches toward them.

Sgileas pushed in front of Trahearne, saw the look of surprise the firstborn gave him from just the corner of his eyes, but he couldn't see Trahearne close to danger. He would not.

When at last he pulled the scythe through the scaled of a krait body and saw both parts flop to the floor he turned around in search for any enemies, but despite the many undead krait that lay beneath their feet there was no sign at all.

“Status report!”, Trahearne ordered.

“No casualties. Minimal damage to the camp.”, a whispers agent answered.

“Good, I—what was that?” The ground made a strange grumbling noise, shook and trembled.

“Undead grubs, Marshal! They're tunneling into the camp!”, the agent yelled as the grubs broke free from the ground. Sgileas jumped in and cut down the one closest to Trahearne, eyes searching for his next enemy when Trahearne yelled,

“Look! There, off the coast: an Orrian ship! Prepare the mortars! We have to sink that ship!”

Sgileas' scythe cut easily through the grubs and he gave Trahearne a glance and realized that when Trahearne nodded toward him that he meant _him_. 

“Trahearne-”, Sgileas protested but Trahearne had none of it,

“Go!”

Sgileas bit the inside of his lip and turned, called upon the shroud that covered him in black and dashed through the lines of grubs that had risen from the ground, hurried up toward the small barricade and set the mortar. 

With a few well fired shots the ship sank before it could so much as fire once and Sgileas jumped down, but noticed that even without him Trahearne could hold his ground very well. 

Somehow, in all his fear and doubt, Sgileas had forgotten that Trahearne was a necromancer like he was, that he was powerful and gifted. That the firstborn had lived such a long life not because he had underestimated enemies, but learned about them and understood their weaknesses. That Sgileas had misjudged him. And now that Sgileas saw the shadows around Trahearne as well, saw them easily responding to his will and bend around his enemies Sgileas could only watch in fascination as the enemies fell.

Trahearne erected himself, oblivious to the eyes of Sgileas' that watched him, “Thanks to you all. That was even more dangerous than I expected.”, the firstborn called and there, right then, Sgileas thought that he looked every bit the leader he was meant to be and that with the shadows engulfing his form Sgileas felt a connection stronger than ever before.

Trahearne met his gaze and made his way toward him with a troubled expression, and Sgileas wanted to carry all the worries away. If only he could. 

“Only a fool would not see that the deeper we dig into the Syska question, the more danger we face.”, Trahearne murmured. “You've been the primary focus of these attacks so far, but it's clear that I am the real target and if the mesmer is out to disrupt the Pact's chain of command, Zhaitan's forces must be planning a major assault. Fort Trinity is the most likely target. Conquering it now would be a huge setback to the Pact. We can't risk that. I'm calling in our forces. Meet me at Fort Trinity, and we'll prepare for Zhaitan's minions.”

All of that, so much, logical and rational, even among the battlefield. Sgileas could do nothing but nod. “I have thought something similar.”, he admitted and Trahearne smiled.

“It seems that I have not lost my touch, then. Come. If these attacks are truly what I believe, then we might have only very little time to prepare.”

Sgileas followed him toward the submarine. It made him feel uneasy, surrounded by metal and under water, but his eyes were trained on Trahearne in such a manner that he completely forgot to fear for himself.

“Is something the matter?”, the firstborn asked without even casting him a glance, and Sgileas cursed himself inwardly for not having been careful, that Trahearne had noticed him staring from the corner of his eyes.

“You will need to be careful if they are after you.”

The firstborn chuckled lightly. “It was you they were after first. Perhaps it is my turn to be worried.”

They were alone, except for the one small asura that was guiding the submarine through the water at the front in a cabin that was separated by a closed metal door. It was this, Sgileas mused later, that made him act quite so boldly.

He stepped closer to Trahearne, made his intent clear with his eyes alone, saw the surprise in the firstborn's eyes sparkle. Sgileas looked at the firstborn's lips and up again, a small question, or more of a warning, before he reached up with his hands, grasped Trahearne's neck tightly and pulled him into a kiss.

Trahearne made a surpised, but content noise and relaxed into the touch, the firstborn's hands rose to grasp at his back and pull him in closer.

The need for more almost strangled Sgileas. There was so much his body demanded, wanted, desired. But the time was not right, the place was not right, and yet a voice in his head protested that it did not matter – they could take time, if they needed it.

Sgileas made a low noise from his throat as he fought the desire and discipline – the major two forces that tore at one another. He pulled at Trahearne, pressed up his chest to meet the firstborn's, could feel the ferns that covered his bark against his robe.

His inner struggle was interrupted when Trahearne pulled back and his brain helplessly asked itself if he had shown too much of what he wanted, if he had gone too far, if he had done something Trahearne did not approve of, but he let him pull back nonetheless. Despite his desires which he credited to his inexperience and young age he would _never_ force himself against Trahearne if the firstborn made it clear that he was pushing too far.

Trahearne smiled down at him fondly and all doubt in him died away. “I know, Sgileas.”, Traheane soothed and Sgileas wondered how much the firstborn truly knew of his struggle. “But we will have to wait. The mission, the Wyld Hunt, Tyria itself – it always has to come first.”

Sgileas leaned his forehead against Trahearne's and the firstborn mimicked the gesture. “I know.”, Sgileas sighed. “Tell me what I need to do.”

“I want you to double-check our defenses, starting with the lumber camp. They've lost a lot of workers, and we need that timber. I will be with you.”

“You should stay in Fort Trinity.”, Sgileas argued and grasped tighter. “If they attack...”

“If they attack, the Pact members need to see that its leaders are fighting, too.”

“Alright.”, Sgileas sighed, suddenly too weak to argue. They held that posture and only broke when the ship trembled and finally came to a halt, signaling their destination. Sgileas broke away and slowly let his hands drift from Trahearne's neck and Sgileas was the first on the pier and on his way to the lumber camp, his mind racing. The emotions easily riled him up, and he knew that if their task was not so imperious... his desires would get out of hand.

But the thoughts died away when he saw the sky. It was turning dark, the light was waning. It looked like it had back then at Claw Island, and all his thoughts immediately were set on the lumber camp outside.

He rushed through the gate and saw a small asura arguing with a charr. “We're behind schedule. Trahearne needs more lumber to strengthen our fortifications.”, the asura said.

“The last logging party we sent out is still missing. We have no idea what happened to them.”, the charr grumbled. **“** Until we do, we can't risk sending any more.”

“All right. Organize a search party to find the missing loggers. Once we find— “, what the asura had wanted to say was drowned in the already familiar sound of undead suddenly appearing from thin air, revealing themselves.

Trahearne was right behind Sgileas, but Sgileas was determined to keep Trahearne as far away from the fight as possible, which was impossible because the firstborn held Caladbolg, a greatsword, and charged in right behind him.

The undead were not many and easily cut down and Sgileas wondered if Zhaitan had not imagined to meet this much resistance here.

“Looks like we've won...for now. Thanks for the assist, Commander.”, the small asura grinned and held her small axe with expertise.

Sgileas had no time to answer. “Secure the gate before they overrun the fort!”, a charr shouted and ran up toward them, and without even a comment Sgileas and Trahearne moved toward the gates, rushed down the small slope and saw that a large mass of undead was already battering at the walls and that various pact members were holding them back.

Two arrowcarts were manned and fired at the Risen without mercy, and Sgileas and Trahearne joined the fray. The undead seemed to come relentlessly, there was simply no end to their masses and slowly but steadily they were pushed further back to the gates.

Sgileas cut a line through them and found himself surrounded, summoned his shroud and spun with his scythe, felt the essences drift into the air and the screams of the undead as they were cut and shredded beneath his blade.

With a quick placement of his foot he stopped and halted to catch his breath, noticed how elevated his breathing had become and searched over the many heads for one particular one and saw Trahearne standing right in front of the gate, pushing back a risen into the horde.

“Giants!”, someone called in panic and Sgileas turned around, just in time to see the massive creatures slowly trot toward them from the distance. They came from every direction, cutting off any way to possibly push them back and the brief time Sgileas had bought himself was over; the undead swarmed in on him and he used his shroud to get away, cut another lane free and left a trail of undead corpses.

The ground began to shake and with every swing of his scythe Sgileas knew the enemy was drawing closer, that they would have a hard time against the giants. When he lunged backwards his foot caught on a corpse underneath his feet and he could not discern if it was risen or one of their own, but for a brief moment he stumbled and fell.

He crashed against someone – or something, he could hardly be sure – behind him and barely found his balance, quickly glanced around and swung his scythe to eliminate the enemies that surrounded him, the weight of the weapon growing with each strike and thrust he delivered.

If this was to continue Sgileas knew he was not going to make it. There was something peaceful about that idea, that death would at least be final. Sylvari did not rise to the call of Zhaitan, for whatever reason that may be, and so long as the orb they had stolen from the Krait remained inside Fort Trinity, neither did any of the pact members.

“We can't hold!”, a voice yelled. “Fall back!”

Sgileas grit his teeth and cut a body in half, splattered the dark blood over the forest floor. He could barely even turn and move, so much was going on around him. Discerning friend from foe was a challenge in itself and Sgileas had a hard time looking out for the other Pact members in order to avoid hitting them.

After one powerful swing with his scythe he cut through an undead charr and suddenly a hand grasped his arm and he turned his head, noticed a human vigil member that gave him a stern glance, sword and shield in hand and stained in blood. She looked utterly convinced and determined and pulled at his arm, screamed at him over the noise of the battle, “Commander, you have to retreat with the others!”

Sgileas lifted his eyes toward the gate, saw that they were barely holding the line. “Then come on!”, he yelled back at her and cut an approaching risen down. She slapped her shield square against a risen body and pushed him along.

“We will hold the line!”

It froze inside Sgileas. He did not know this woman, not personally, neither did she truly know him, but she was willing to give her life for his own, a stranger, because she knew only two things:

He was the Commander, and he would be needed in the battle of Zhaitan.

That alone was all she had, the simplest of notions and logical reasoning, and yet she stood bravely against the destiny that surely awaited her if she traveled down this path. A sacrifice to safe his life. Just like Forgal had done.

_I thought I could prevent it from ever happening again,_ Sgileas thought bitterly when he grabbed her arm and squeezed it, the sole solace on the battlefield before her death he could give her. A gesture that he understood, and that he would not forget.  _But I can't. It is not within my power, I am not strong enough._

The woman smiled, and lifted her sword into the air, tore her eyes away and yelled, “Hold the line! For the Pact! For Tyria! ”

Sgileas rushed toward the gate and was looking for Trahearne, saw the firstborn looking over the fight with an equally worried glance. When finally their eyes met he sighed in relief, and Sgileas noticed a small cut on Trahearne's arm and a part of his armor that was ripped off from his forearm.

“Sgileas.”, Traaerne said, but it was not a greeting at all. It was utter alleviation.

Sgileas pulled Trahearne along, did not waste any time to chat. The gate loomed over them both and he heard the sound of fighting behind them, the gate mechanism suddenly seemed so far away, and an object Sgileas never wanted to use.

When they reached the lever to pull down the gate Sgileas stared at those that stood behind it and held the line. A few got in behind them, but most stayed outside to buy them time.

“Close the gate!”, one of them called and Sgileas saw the female again in her armor, her sword raised high. “Close it!”

Pulling the lever was the hardest thing Sgileas had ever done and when it shut with a loud cracking noise he heard the fighting behind the large metal door still, but knew that whoever stayed behind had no chance to survive. None at all.

“Pale Mother forgive us.”, Trahearne murmured, and Sgileas knew that as much as it had struck him to sacrifice all these people, it had struck Trahearne as well. Probably even more. But they had to be hardened, they needed to win this battle, and they would honor each and every one who had made the ultimate sacrifice.

Sgileas grasped Trahearne's cheeks, noticed how glassy and wide the firstborn's eyes looked, and only slowly did they focus on him. It was a vulnerability nobody even knew the firstborn had because he hid it behind a shroud of confidence and competence that was but a mask.

It was a weakness he had revealed to Sgileas to show how much he trusted the younger sylvari, and it was at this point that Sgileas was reminded that as much experience as Trahearne had had – he was only a sylvari as well. That he could not shoulder every burden himself, even if he appeared like he could. That he doubted and feared like everyone else.

“We will make Zhaitan pay.”, Sgileas whispered. “We won't forget their sacrifices. But we need to move and win this fight. Come on, Trahearne. I am with you.”

It was visible, how purpose and determination snapped back into the firstborns eyes and Trahearne nodded. “Thank you, Sgileas.”

“We fight as one.”

“We fight as one.”, Trahearne echoed, and Sgileas pulled him along to the docks where sounds of fighting were already rising from the piers.

“The docks are being overrun!”, one of the pact members yelled. “We can not hold them back! The canons have been destroyed!”

From up over their heads a female priory member suddenly yelled, her body leaning over the railing, “Someone stole the orb!”

“We have to get the orb back!”, Trahearne ordered and Sgileas was surprised how much power his voice had. “Commander, retrieve that orb.”

“On it.” Sgileas made his way up the stairs, two at a time and dashed through another metal door to the courtyard. His eyes darted toward the holster where the orb had been and then toward the asura gates, where he saw the doors being shut.

“They have the orb!”, an asura cried as Risen appeared from dark, green clouds form thin air, swarming the courtyard. Sgileas cut his way through and ran toward the asura, helped him fight off the risen. “They have the orb! I realized too late that they were illusions! If they can get the gates to work-”

Sgileas eyes were trained on a cart and he grabbed an explosive and planted it in front of the gate. “Out of the way”, he yelled and the asura sought cover. Just as the explosion rippled through the air and dust was rising Sgileas already dashed through and saw five pact members that all turned toward him, glaring down.

“Your Pact is finished. Your orb, your fortress, and your asura gates belong to us!”

“This is their Commander.”, another said and grinned a wide, wicked smile. “Zhaitan has ordered your death!”

“I am not much of a willing victim, you'll find.”, Sgileas replied dryly and made no further attempt to distract them; he surged forward, the scythe spinning in his hand and cut though the pact members with ease. The illusion shattered with a loud clatter and showed their true forms.

The undead that held the orb screamed, “We can't lose the orb now! Keep him away from me!”

Sgileas ducked beneath a large club and cut through the undeads torso, swung the scythe over his head and used its momentum to cut the next risen as well, the one with the orb the only one left standing. It withdrew with a hiss and Sgileas followed it, jumped into the air with a twist of his body and cut the scythe diagonally through the undead body, mindful not to hit the orb.

The undead body stood for barely a second in which Sgileas took the orb and felt its power pulse in the air around it and in his hand before the body slumped to the ground with a squishy sound.

He clutched it to his chest with his free hand, held the scythe tightly with his other and dashed back toward the courtyard, up the stairs as saw that the pact had build a defensive line and held the risen back. They made way for him and cut off any risen that had tried to intercept him.

When he finally reached the orb's holster he was out of breath and sank the orb back into its designated place. The energy surged upward into the system, a stream of blue circling over the walls and over all of Fort Trinity, signaling that its magic was transferred and working.

His eyes darted down toward the gate to the docks and saw that it was sealed tight and his chest and throat constricted. Panicked his eyes searched for Trahearne, any sign of the firstborn at all when he saw him moving up the stairs, looking tattered and exhausted, but determined.

When their eyes met Sgileas felt infinitely grateful and new strength seeping back into his arms and legs. “We have sealed the underwater gates and any access to the courtyard. Rally to me and push them back!”, Trahearne ordered and shouts answered his call, the Pact moving down to meet the Risen that had appeared.

With the orb in place, the pact members gathered and no risen reinforcements coming in they finally managed to push them back. The courtyard was the first, then came the docks and when the last risen had finally fallen and they retreated back to the dark waters and disappeared, the cheer that rose from the Pact made the ground tremble and Sgileas ears ring.

It had not looked like they would win this fight, if Sgileas was truthful. He rested against his scythe and caught his breath, his eyes staring out toward the horizon where he searched for any sign of more Risen, but it seemed that they had beaten Zhaitan, this time.

Their first victory as the Pact, at Fort Trinity.

Suddenly there was a loud voice and as it rose over the masses, a hush came over all of them as Trahearne spoke from the railing.

“For more than one hundred years, Orr has been lost. Despoiled, corrupted, ruined by the presence of a dragon: an infection, withering the heart of Tyria. Fort Trinity symbolizes our determination. It stands as a mark of our unity against the dragons. From here, we will prevail. We will fight to rend the darkness with steel and flame, always looking toward the dawn. Our victory at Fort Trinity will show the world that we can strike against the dragons. When we are ready, we will prove that even in the sanctum or Orr, they are not untouchable. We can reach the dragon's lair in the heart of Orr. We can assault Arah. We can destroy Zhaitan before the dragon's infection claims us all. This battle is over. We can triumph. And the war has just begun.”

Cheers and applause rumbled from the Pact and Sgileas breathed a heavy breath. This was one victory, one of many they _had_ to win if Zhaitan was to be defeated. It would take more than pushing back hordes of undead. And it would take more lives and would cost them sacrifices such as the woman that still lay outside the gates. 

Trahearne's eyes searched over the crowd and he saw Sgileas moving toward the outer gates, moving through the masses like a shadow, easy to miss, but Trahearne knew what to look for. 

“Patch up the wounded, and survey the damage. I want the report as soon as possible.”, Trahearne said to the Officer beside him and the charr nodded. The firstborn followed Sgileas outside, saw that other pact members were already moving through the dead to account those they had lost. 

Sgileas looked a little forlorn, standing so far away from any others. He was watching from the shadows and Trahearne already had an idea what was going through the young sylvari's head. 

“They were willing to give their lives to defeat Zhaitan. We all have to be, or the Pact will never stop the dragons.”, Sgileas said before Trahearne could say anything and the firstborn nodded.

“It is a harsh and painful truth. But their sacrifices allow us to continue. And we have to. We have come too far to turn back now.” When Sgileas did not answer Trahearne continued, “I'm glad we have the dragon's attention. I want Zhaitan to know the names and faces of those who will defeat it. Fort Trinity is secure for now. So if you have no objections, I'd like us to turn our attention to Syska. I know where she is. She's at the Pact camp near Signal Peak. I'd like you with me when I confront her.”

“She's tried to destroy us both, and I will see her answer for it.”

“Agreed. I'll wrap things up here and then meet you near the Signal Peak Camp.”, Trahearne said and Sgileas met his eyes.

“Are you sure you want to be directly involved? Whoever "Syska" is, she targeted you. She targeted me, too, but only to get a clear shot at you. “

“I'm sure. The fact that she was after me makes this my problem. The Pact needs to see me handle it, and I need you by my side when I do.”

“You do not have to prove anything to the Pact.”, Sgileas argued. “If they have not seen that you are capable yet they never will.”

“That may be, but I believe I can handle it. And I will have you with me. There is nothing we have to worry about.”

“That is the only thing about this that I agree with.”, Sgileas grumbled. “You are always at the front, always fighting where the enemy can easily take a clear shot and it would be over.”

“It would be no good if I stayed behind. The pact needs to see that their Marshal is willing to fight as much as they are. It it a matter of morale.”

“Then what am I here for?”, Sgileas grit out. “I am the Commander, and I am supposed to be there, to show them we fight, to show them that I am willing to die as much as they are. You have no reason to put yourself in danger such as this.”

“You want to protect me.”, Trahearne suddenly noticed. “This is not about the Pact at all, is it?”

“Of course I want to protect you.”, Sgileas dead-panned. “I-”, but he cut himself off and averted his eyes, glaring down at the ground.

Trahearne smiled at him and grasped his hand and squeezed it and slowly Sgileas lifted his eyes. “Me too.”, Trahearne murmured and Sgileas heart beat harshly in his chest. “If I could I would put you in a cozy warm seed beneath the Pale Tree's bough so that you never have to be in danger. So that you are safe. But that safety is not for us; we are meant to be here. Our very purpose demands that we are here. Doing anything less would make us wither and wilt in the absence of light our hope provides. I understand the danger, but with you here I know we can make it; I know we can survive. With you here, I am _alive_ , fighting for not just my Wyld Hunt, not just for Tyria, but also for _us_.”

Sgileas felt showered. Showered with gratitude for his very existence, showered with love and care and affection he had never thought to ever receive, that he had not thought he deserved. “You are the light we follow.”, he gulped and saw that Trahearne was smiling. “And I'll follow you. Anywhere. You have but to ask.”

“With you at my side I have nothing to fear.”, Trahearne said. “Go now. If we are to confront Syska, we have to be decisive and quick.”

Sgileas nodded. “At once.”

  
  


Sgileas did not have to wait long. For a few seconds he had been worried about Trahearne making the journey here alone, but then again he saw that Trahearne sought solitude more often than any others he knew. The firstborn sought exclusion to think – a process that Sgileas understood. 

“Did you wait long?”, Trahearne asked when he finally approached through the high grass. 

“No, not at all, although I had to resist dealing with Syska myself – or keeping out of sight.” 

“I've kept her former squadmates away so they don't tip her off. You and I will confront this impostor personally.”

“She will deny it – and when trapped, even cats can bite.”

Trahearne nodded. “We will be careful.” They approached the camp, made their way up the ramparts toward a small tent at the top where the Charr stood, being fussed over by a medic. When they approached the medic looked perplexed, but immediately made himself scarce.

The charr, Syska, turned her head around and growled when she saw Sgileas. “I'm sorry, Marshal Trahearne, but the commander has to go! I won't have anything to do with the failure!”

“The Commander is here at my request, Tactician. Recent events have raised serious concerns about you.”, Trahearne said.

“I've done the best I could in very difficult circumstances. Every soldier in my unit will vouch—“

“I already spoke with them.”, Trahearne cut in. “They support what the commander has been saying. You're not quite yourself these days, are you?”

“No.”, Syska replied, but the twitch of her lips made Sgileas anxious. “I'm better. I intended to quietly exploit my position until you were dead and your war lost, but now I'm forced to be direct. You're hard to kill, Trahearne, but I'll keep trying until I get it right!”

Sgileas growled lowly in his chest, grabbed the scythe from the holster on his back and held it out in front of him, but before he could attack the illusion shattered before his eyes and an undead woman stood, pale, bleached eyes glaring down at them with a crooked smile playing on her torn lips.

“A pleasure to shed that facade.”, the undead grinned. “Behold me as I truly am.”

“You claim to be Zhaitan's creature. Yet you speak and act as if untouched by its corruption.”, Trahearne frowned and had drawn Caladbolg as well.

“My will is Zhaitan's.”, the undead dead-panned. “You and your troops will be his puppets. Nothing stands in our masters way.”

When she attacked, Sgileas and Trahearne were ready. The other pact members from the camp barely had time to even react to the sudden development. Sgileas and Trahearne attacked from both sides, giving the creature no time to properly defend either, and when it decided to dodge Sgileas scythe and take the blow from Caladbolg it gave a loud, wailing screech.

“It burns!”, it yelled and clutched the wound where Caladbolg had cut into the undead flesh, ripping apart the waist. “It-”

Whatever it had wanted to say was lost when Sgileas swung around, the head of the scythe hitting the throat perfectly and decapitating the undead on the spot. The body slumped to the ground and lay unmoving, and the pact soldiers that had come to aid them stood dumbfounded on the stairs toward the rampart.

“Perhaps now the Pact can conduct its war without Zhaitan's interference and trickery.”, Trahearne murmured thoughtfully. “Zhaitan committed time and resources to crippling our alliance, but it failed. Now is the time to press our advantage, before they regroup.” For a brief moment Trahearne was silent and then his eyes rose to meet Sgileas'. “We should start the invasion of Orr. It will be a long, hard road, but we will never have a better opportunity. I will begin the initial preparations. Stick close. Once I determine our strategy, I'll need you to execute the particulars. This is what we've been working for. From now on, we're taking the initiative. A united Tyria is stronger than any dragon.”

“Heh.”, Sgileas grinned, and for once he did feel the rush of victory. “Initiative? I like it.”

Trahearne smiled. “Come, there is much to discuss.” Together they descended from the ramparts, cleared any confusion about what had happened with Syska, and then returned to Fort Trinity to finally begin their assault.

The assault against Zhaitan: To finally fell an Elder Dragon.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoop, you did it! Thanks for reading, and if you have time please let me know who you think is the dominant one here *winkyface*. Just for...science. Yeah, science. :D  
> Love you guys! Lessthanthree! ~S


	12. Drowning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I wrote this chapter so fast I was shocked myself. I swear I just uploaded Chapter 11, wrote this immediately after and...well. I regret nothing. Nothing at all.  
> This...I love this chapter. I hope you do too.   
> For those of you that care...I wrote this chapter while listening to "SVRCINA - Island" on repeat.

The very first thing Sgileas found them doing was give a speech. Not that he was giving one, no, he listened. It was Trahearne once more that was now proclaiming to all of Fort Trinity that now they would strike at Zhaitan, that the time had finally come.

“For too long, Tyria has suffered. We gather now with newfound purpose. Zhaitan's servants storm our homelands. It is time to bring the battle back to Orr. This tide will wash over Arah and cleanse the dragon's corruption! Together, we will prevail! Let the ships sail! Let the troops march! And let us find—victory!”

Sgileas smiled from the shadow of the small tent, saw the Pact members that had assembled cheer at the speech Trahearne had given.

“A stirring speech, Trahearne.”, Wynnet Fairhaired was the first to praise.

“Absolutely. You've turned into a real warleader, Marshal.”, Warmaster Efut agreed, and Sgileas wondered if she would have patted Trahearne on the shoulder if she had been not such a small asura. Small she was, but that said nothing about her capabilities. Sgileas knew that.

“Now if we can just keep the impetus you started, then we'll have a chance.”, Doern Valezquez smiled.

“Thank you, friends. May fortune bless you.”, Trahearne smiled and bowed. They all bowed in return and then left down the ramp, leaving Sgileas and Trahearne alone on the small platform. To Sgileas surprise Trahearne approached and gestured for him to follow. “I would like our discussion to be for our ears only.”

Sgileas followed him and wondered what the secrecy was all about, tried very hard not to think of anything inappropriate. The various pact members they passed saluted them and grinned at them, some even offered for them to join in on a discussion, but Trahearne declined with a smile and a gesture of his hand.

“What is this about, Trahearne?”, Sgileas asked when they moved away farther and farther from the others. The sun was already setting on the horizon and it was late, late enough that some might turn in soon. 

The day had started with their meeting, Sgileas had gone to investigate the miscommunication and discovered Syska, then Fort Trinity had been attacked and this was a good a time as any to rest – and Trahearne certainly looked tired, despite the powerful speech he had given. 

“There's someone I'd like you to meet.”, Trahearne said. “Our visitor may cause alarm, so privacy is paramount.” Sgileas frowned at that and his skin prickled when Trahearne finally stood in a corner that lay deep in the shadow of the wall, with nobody anywhere in sight. “Sayeh, it's now safe to reveal yourself.”

What happened next was not something Sgileas had expected. He felt the shift in the air, just the faintest breeze and from thin air, melting into reality almost, stood a strange creature with wings that flapped at her back.

His hand was on his scythe in a matter of a second, but before he could draw it Trahearne gestured with his arm to sheath it again.

“Greetings, Marshal Trahearne. As you've requested, I've come to honor my oath.”, the creature spoke, every syllable rolling off of her tongue. Her eyes were dark, clever orbs that mustered Sgileas with wonder and if she had not worn a mask that covered half her face, Sgileas might have thought her to be smiling.

“Excellent. Thank you for your patience, Commander. Allow me to introduce the revered Sayeh al' Rajihd.”

“In the name of the Concordat of the Tethyos Houses, I greet you, ally of my ally.”, Sayeh said, with no motion to bow her head whatsoever.

Sgileas narrowed his eyes. “I've heard that your people don't meet with land-dwellers.”

“You speak truth.”, she answered. “I have long owed Trahearne. Now, at last, he has called upon me to honor my oath.”

“Scouts have discovered a sixth temple in Orr—a lost shrine to a fallen god, hidden underwater in the Strait of Malediction.”, Trahearne finally explained. “Abaddon, the human god of secrets, was cast out of Arah by the other deities, and his name was erased from history. Very little remained. Zhaitan craves something inside that temple, so we must get there first. Sayeh will accompany you as a guide.”

Before Sgileas could protest Sayeh tested him, “Tell me, Commander, can you fight? Is your oath made of steel? You'll need all your skills to travel with me.”

“I have yet to meet anything I couldn't overcome.”, he answered sharply.

“Intriguing. I look forward to this, Commander. Until then, may your steps be relentless.”

“A word, Commander.”, Trahearne said and pulled him aside by his arm just a few steps away from the strange woman that clearly was no human. She almost blend in with the shadows, and when Sgileas blinked he feared he might loose sight of her. “She is an ally, there is no need to be quite so anxious.”

“Her people are renowned hunters, assassins.”, Sgileas frowned. “How is that not worthy of anxiety?”

“She is my ally, and I trust her. She will guide you to the temple and protect you.”

“I do not need her to watch over me.”, Sgileas squinted his eyes.

“No, but I do.”

The anger in Sgileas drained when he understood, and he argued only feebly. “I don't-”

“This mission is of grave importance, and it can not wait. I know the day has been long, and exhausting, which is why I have called in this favor. We need to know what those ruins hold, and I do not want you to go alone.”

It stunned Sgileas into temporary silence until he slowly nodded and gulped. “I...understand.”

“I have faith in you. But four pairs of eyes see more than one. Even if you find no solace in that knowledge, know that it eases my mind that she is with you. I am sorry I have to send you on this mission, but it is urgent that we know what Zhaitan seeks – and why.”

“I will uncover it.”, Sgileas vowed and took Trahearne's hand.

Trahearne looked worried still, even though the time he had spend as a leader hardened his expression somewhat, a mask to hide how insecure he felt. “Be careful, Sgileas. The temple is a dark and dangerous place, even more so with Zhaitan's minions lurking about.”

Sgileas nodded and as though their minds had thought the very same, they leaned forward and their foreheads touched gently once more. Both breathed a steadying breath and it was in moments like this that Sgileas felt connected to Trahearne, that he felt the affection and adoration flow freely without a word being said.

“I'll return soon, lo-”, Sgileas gulped the word down, felt he had overstepped and his heart spiked. “Trahearne.”, he quickly corrected.

Trahearne looked surprised and then his eyes softened, a smile curled at the edge of his mouth. An admission, and quite so soon? He had thought it, but not expected it. He held Sgileas, not forcefully, just enough to prevent the younger sylvari from fleeing once again. It was one of his tactics to avoid any situations that might prove difficult in terms of sentimentality and emotion.

The firstborn thought about teasing Sgileas about it, just for a few heartbeats, but decided against it. The flush that had crept into Sgileas cheeks was worth all of his patience. “I'll wait.”, Trahearne answered softly. He would wait, both on Sgileas return and for the word that he had meant to say, twice now.

“You should rest.”, Sgileas protested, finally gaining ground again, the timid part overcome with his own concern. “I do not know how long it will take.”

“And you truly believe I can rest with you in a dangerous place such as the temple of Abaddon?”, Trahearne asked, finally let Sgileas pull away.

“I'll be fine.”

“Yes.”, Trahearne agreed thoughtfully, and threw all his concerns that Sayeh was watching out the window. The woman would have made her conclusions by now by the display, so this would barely matter. The firstborn leaned forward and placed his lips gently on Sgileas, earned himself a surprised noise. The kiss was short, fleeting, and gentle, and when Trahearne pulled back he relished the color that had darkened on Sgileas cheeks even more. “You will.”

Sgileas had nothing to answer to that and only nodded and slowly stepped away from Trahearne, his aura, his presence, felt suddenly cold without him. When he turned to face Sayeh she had a perfectly guarded face, quite literally with the mask that covered half of it, her eyes betraying no emotions.

“The sun is setting.”, the woman said. “We have very little time remaining.”

“Then we will make haste.”, Sgileas agreed and followed her toward a quiet part of the pier and cast one last glance behind him to see Trahearne watching them leave into the nightfall with dismay.

  
  


The temple lay underwater, deep underneath where barely any light from the surface reached at all. The darkness that enveloped them was no stranger to Sgileas, even though the aqua-breather that was on his face was. It felt alien, the cool water surrounding his body and drenching his clothes, running through the foliage on his head.

“The way ahead is dark and uncompromising.”, Sayeh murmured.

“What can you tell me of this temple?”, Sgileas asked as he skimmed with his eyes over the dark rocks and the sharp edges that threatened to cut into his skin if he was not careful, barely illuminated by a small torch he carried that burned even under water.

“A wretched place. There are mysteries within that normally would appeal to me, but pursuing them has never had a clear benefit...until now.”, Sayeh answered in that mysterious voice of hers.

“What's your connection to Trahearne?”, he continued.

“That is between he and I. I live according to the dictates of the Tethyos Compact, with honor and without mercy. My presence here is in service of those dictates.”

“Fair enough.”, Sgileas grumbled and pierced an undead that came swimming from the deep beneath them with a movement of his scythe. The weapon felt slower and clumsy in these waters and he was not accustomed to fighting under such circumstances. “Are you planning to hunt me?”

Her eyes gleamed at his question. “That would be a distinctive honor, but no. You are a part of this mission to the temple, and as long as I am beholden to Trahearne, that mission is my top priority.”

It eased some of the anxiety he had in her presence, but he still felt uneasy. He credited it to the fact that he was in an old abandoned temple of a long forgotten god and the fact that undead were swarming this place. “I have told this to many before you, so be warned: I am no easy prey.”

She laughed a low, rumbling laughter that made bubbles form underneath her mask and drift up toward the far away surface. “Easy prey makes for no exciting hunts, Commander. A challenge is greater to savor.” Her eyes darted ahead. “Tread carefully. The path ahead will be guarded and watched. We are no longer alone.”

He grumbled something beneath his breath. He was well aware that two people such as him and her were easy to spot with the torch he carried, but there was no helping it. Even if darkness was his element, he could not maneuver without sight. It was easier to see his element as  _shadow_ rather than the complete absence of any source of light.

They fought their way upwards and passed various obelisks that opened the doors as soon as a challenge had been bested – ghosts of old that guarded the passage. The tides changed, pulled them upward like a stream and finally – by the  _Pale Tree finally!_ \- Sgileas breathed normal air and pulled the aqua-breather from his mouth, rested it beneath his chin. 

“Easy, Commander. There is something here...something dangerous. I can feel it.” Instead of sounding afraid she sounded _excited_. 

He tread carefully through the tunnel, the torch left at the stone they had emerged. Whatever awaited them ahead did not need to know they were coming. 

“The Altar of Secrets is ahead.”, she whispered and Sgileas looked around the corner.

There stood three mighty undead creatures, a kind Sgileas had never seen before. A great eye that floated, covered by an exosceleton that protected it. One large, broad creature that had a large mouth where an abdomen would usually be. Another looked the most normal of them all and as soon as Sgileas approached the Eye suddenly turned and fixed on him, made him freeze on the spot.

“Intruders!”, it yelled, even though it possessed no mouth. “You trespass on the dragon's lands.” The creatures turned toward them and Sgileas clipped his scythe free, noticed that the eye was mustering him. “The sylvari.”

It knew him, seemed to look through him and for a second Sgileas was frozen, felt as though the eyes of another, of something else, something greater stared back at him, fixed him, mustered him. 

“Zhaitan demands your death, sylvari.”, the eye said as though it was only conveying orders. 

“It will have to come and get me first.”, Sgileas grit out, tried to shake off the feeling that Zhaitan itself was watching from that one, large eyeball.

The Risen that looked most normal stepped forward to fight them and the other two made their escape. Sgileas growled, but was cut off.

“Submit to the dragon, stupid creature.”, the Risen taunted and Sgileas lifted his scythe over his head, spun it and brought it down in a slash. The creature stepped back and dodged his attack, proving to be a more formidable opponent than Sgileas would have at first thought.

Sayeh jumped in, almost out of nowhere and cut with two dark, sharp blades at the undead that cut into the flesh, but left the undead completely uncaring for its wounds. Its eyes would not leave Sgileas, as though it was compelled to move toward him and it attacked, lunged forward with its sword but only met air when Sgileas stepped aside.

The shield in its other hand came forward, would have met his shoulder but only met shadow and smoke. The creature stumbled through him and when Sgileas appeared again he barely blocked the attack the creature had launched in desperation; it had spun around, pushed its foot behind it to catch its balance and the sword clashed against the metal of Sgileas scythe.

The metal screeched, a spark flew and Sgileas frowned, pushed against the force when Sayeh pushed both her blades into the creature's back, but the undead did not care, did not cry out, did not even look at her.

The creature lifted its foot off the ground and Sgileas jumped back to dodge the kick and the creatures foot met air. It then turned, whirled around and for once tried to hit Sayeh who already disappeared into the shadows once more, completely disappearing from sight.

With a jump and a turn the creature lunged toward Sgileas, sword clashing against the metal and it left a large dent in it, cut against it and left scratches where it met. The shield lifted and its tip made a cutting motion, made Sgileas pull his head back and as he stepped back, he heard Sayeh cry out,

“Watch out!”

He looked behind him, saw a wide hole a large gap that led to water beneath. He stumbled, tried to find his balance and barely landed on the side of the large well. Sayeh appeared beside the creature, tried to push it into the well with a kick, but the creature stepped aside with an ease of a weapon master.

Sgileas scrambled to his feet, noticed that his scythe was barely going to hold another blow. This opponent was one of Zhaitan's strongest and he would have to attack it – defending himself would not work, not for long. Its blade was made from a different steel, a different kind of material perhaps, and was stronger and sharper than Sgileas scythe could withstand.

Seyah dodged back when the creature tried to shield bash her and Sgileas used the window of opportunity to cut the the creature's exposed side. The scythe as well as his dark blade cut through its waist, tore it open and left a gaping wound, revealing white, pale ribs beneath. Blood dripped to the floor in a dark puddle, but the creature did not mind at all.

The swing of its blade came unexpectedly. Sgileas shrouded himself, the blade glided through him and as he appeared the shield smacked right against him. He stumbled to the side, mindful of the large well that seemed to call him into its depths, and noticed that Seyah had to jump back when the creature began to spin.

It came closer and closer, cornering Sgileas against the wall and he followed the motion of the sword with his eyes, his brain entirely focused when he used an opening and cut with his scythe just when the blade had passed barely an inch away from him.

His scythe landed, stuck deep in the creatures stomach and the blade poked out at his spine, but the undead spun still, the momentum not broken and cut itself in half, but also managed to bring the sword around.

Sgileas turned his back against the blow, hoped to absorb most of it when he felt it cut deep into his bark and it all seemed to pass by infinitely slowly.

A searing pain shot up along his back and the strength in his legs left him, made him succumb to his knees and he grit his teeth to keep from crying out in pain. Seyah made a sound like a cry, and the creature yelled, “No, no, no! The dragon is angry!” before he heard the sound of the body and something heavy thud to the floor.

Sgileas took a deep breath and stood, felt the sap flowing from the wound on his back, seeping into his robe and shook his head to ignore the pain. Seyah gave him a searching look, almost worried.

“I am fine.”, he grit out. The cut was not deep, but it reached from his one shoulder blade to the other and as soon as he moved, the bark stretched and tore at the wound.

The ground trembled and began to shake as a loud roar made the ruins clatter. Seyah lifted her gaze toward the ceiling in panic. “The dragon roars in fear! These ancient foundations will not withstand the sound. Escape, quickly, before we are buried forever!”

The roar lasted for a few terrible seconds and the stone around him trembled, a giant rock loosened form the ceiling above and crashed into the ground, shattering on the platform and making it crack beneath his feet.

He stepped away, but the cracks widened and the exit was too far away, he would never make it, and Seyah's eyes grew wide when another large rock fell right in between them and shattered at their feet and made the platform crumble.

The cracks reached toward the well, pieces of rock fell beneath and Sgileas felt the ground give away underneath his feet. His hands sought to hold out to anything, but he was suddenly surrounded by rock and darkness, his shoulder hit a boulder and then, all of a sudden, a cold grasped his body and engulfed him.

Water surrounded him and he was dragged deeper, a rock landed atop his chest and pulled him deeper and he tried to wither away, his heart going erratic in his chest. Even underwater he heard the call of the dragon, the roar vibrating even in the waves beneath. It was duller here, but no less terrifying.

Darkness engulfed him and he could not tell up from down, not left from right, not front from behind. It crashed around him, he heard things cracking and clashing in the hallow of underwater and his fingers sought the aqua-breather on his neck, felt the cool metal against his fingers.

Something crashed against his chest and the air was pressed from his lungs, he heard the bubbles but could not see them and fought with the weight until he felt his body meet ground, squeezed between a cool, smooth surface and the heavy rock atop his chest.

His legs struggled and he tried to lift the rock, but it was useless. With barely any strength left and his brain growing murky and clouded he lifted the aqua-breather over his mouth, relished the sudden burst of oxygen for his lungs.

But it did little to help him. He could breathe, for a time, but he was trapped without any light. If the pressure did not kill him because his muscles could not work against the rock then the cold would.

_Think_ , he closed his eyes because they were of little use to him anyway.  _Think. There has to be something you can do._

The sound of clattering around him died away, as did Zhaitan's scream, and the earth finally rested in silence. He could attempt to shroud himself, consume the essences and pray that the time he would gain could save him. It would give him a few minutes, depending. He could try to shroud and glide through the rock, but he did not know if not more rested atop of him. He was not particularly fond of finding out what happened to him if he displaced himself inside a rock.

Surrounded by darkness, water, and cold. Squeezed by a rock. Sgileas opened his eyes again, but of course he did not see anything. 

“ _Yes.”_ , Trahearne's voice in his head said. _“You will_.”

_I can't die here,_ Sgileas thought. The thought of Trahearne, what it would do to the firstborn if he did not return...it terrified Sgileas. Trahearne was essential in their victory against Zhaitan, was their guiding light, their only hope. 

_He would find a way_ , Sgileas tried to soothe his own brain.  _Trahearne is stronger than that, he would surely see his purpose, be stronger than this tragedy._

And yet, even thought he told himself that, somehow that was barely any comfort at all. Of course Trahearne would learn to cope, with time, and patience, but that did not mean Sgileas wanted to see the firstborn experience that. 

He would find a way. He would not make Trahearne have to go through that pain. With a grunt Sgileas pushed against the rock, but it was of no use. Either it was too large and heavy, or more rested atop. 

His hands searched around him, felt various rocks and sharp edges that almost cut into his palm, but he concentrated and rested his hands against the rocks. He focused, closed his eyes, called deeply within himself, a power he had never bother to use before, a power he knew was possible for necromancers. 

The rocks around him trembled and shuddered and slowly, the tide of water changed.

  
  


Seyah had waited only for a few seconds outside the temple before she had hurried back to Fort Trinity, her mission even more urgent than before. Fort Trinity's alarms did not go off as she wandered the shadows and found Trahearne standing atop a pier, eyes staring toward the cold, dark waters ahead, the moon the only light and a few diffuse lights from the Fort itself. 

Trahearne turned around in surprise, saw that Seyah was dripping wet, her pale, long hair drenched, her wings looked smaller from the heavy burden she carried. The firstborn looked behind her and was confused, before his eyes widened, but Seyah spoke,

“The temple crumbled under the dragon's roar. I lost sight of him beneath the waves.”

A heavy weight amassed in Trahearne's chest and without even a word he brushed past, made his way quickly to the first pact members that were in range. “I need a rescue squad,  _right now_ .”, he ordered. “A ship that travels fast, and a medic.”

They hurried, but for Trahearne it seemed like an eternity until they had boarded the ship and finally set out onto the dark, open sea. The water seemed almost innocent, and yet Trahearne felt his chest constricted as though a heavy weight rested atop it, barely allowing him to breathe. He should never have send him away. Never should have sent him off. Whatever information they had gathered it could not be worth Sgileas' life.

Trahearne suddenly remembered when he had first met Sgileas, young, seeking praise, arrogant. Powerful, and so very set in his ways as though he was older, wiser than any of the firstborn, or even all of them combined. 

It had been that impertinence that had intrigued Trahearne, had made him wonder and worry for the young sylvari – such power was easy to fall into eager, darker hands, such as the Nightmare Court. But Trahearne had learned that underneath all that arrogance lay determination, intelligence, urgency. Nothing quite so dark as Caithe had said.

There had been a great light within him, one that had shone so very brightly. So strongly. A force that sought to righten the evils of this world. It was this strength, this virtue that Trahearne had realized was what would bring change to the world, dark as Sgileas outside may seem.

The light within, or as Trahearne's Dream had shown him, the ivory branch, was the core, was perfection, was what Trahearne cherished as soon as he had realized, as soon as he had seen it within Sgileas, he had fallen. Fallen for all the sides of the younger sylvari, the layers, admired his determination, appreciated his strengths, and the fact that only with Sgileas at his side, he felt complete. Whole. 

He did not want to think what would happen if the depths took that from him and stared blankly out toward the sea, fighting the swirl of emotions that threatened to swallow him.

  
  


Sgileas saw. Through the eyes of the minion he had summoned he saw the rocks, saw them better than with his own eyes and forced more magic into his creation, gave it strength and a brutishness much unlike his own. 

The minion swam helplessly for a few seconds and Sgileas had trouble to concentrate, the air was getting harder to breathe, the weight atop his chest too heavy. When finally the control of the minion snapped back it lifted the rocks, pushed them aside, moved them until Sgileas finally saw that only the large one atop his chest remained. 

It was too much to move, even the minion could not hope to lift it, and Sgileas knew he did not have much time. He only had this one chance, and he poured all his remaining strength into the shroud, sapped energy from the essences and felt it empowering him up to his fingertips and drifted upward, ever so slowly, agonizingly slow until the magic slipped form his grasp and he could not keep the shroud up any longer and felt his body materialize. 

He was still alive, and not somehow one with the stone, or so his brain slowly informed him as he drifted, still unable to see, but the weight had lifted and he felt bruised and exhausted, barely had enough strength to lift his arms. 

And then, all of a sudden, he felt the minions arms under his own, carry him upward. His body felt too weak to help, too weak to respond, barely able to breathe. The minion dragged him upward, the water rushed by him and then, all of a sudden, his head burst through to the surface and he took a deep breath, coughing heavily when his lungs inflated almost painfully. His back ached and the water was suddenly freezing cold and all he wanted to do was close his eyes, to drift and sleep. Only a small, quiet part of his brain protested that he was in danger, that these were undead infested waters, that he would die drifting in the cold. 

The minions arms suddenly loosened and Sgileas heard it sink below the surface, all life drained from it. The life he had breathed into it spent. It disappeared like a white, pale stone into the dark depths below and Sgileas had no strength to keep himself afloat, his eyes kept falling shut and his body felt numb.

With one last breath he looked up toward the sky and could see the stars, heard the waves and then closed his eyes. His body was too heavy and would not float and he felt himself being dragged down beneath the surface, cold rose to his chin, his cheeks and his eyes and then swallowed him whole. 

He felt light, numb, without pain. At least it would not hurt, going like this. 

And then atop his head he saw a light. It flickered against the waves and then he heard the rush of water, saw small bulbs of light, diffuse and unfocused like a ribbon made from fire. It was beautiful, so beautiful that Sgileas did not recognize that silhouette that surrounded the form, the luminescent light from ferns, the pattern glowing golden from teal-colored skin. 

When Sgileas saw the eyes glowing in the darkness he thought that he had died, that he had drifted and this was what the Dream was like, where all the sylvari went once they died. They became part of the Dream to share their experience with younger sylvari, with those still dreaming.

But he recognized Trahearne among the darkness, the pattern sparkling in the mirage of the waves, the bright eyes fixed and focused. The firstborn grasped him where he drifted deeper, pulled him up and the aqua-breather on Sgileas mouth produced bubbles that drifted to the surface.

Trahearne pulled him closer, slung one arm around his back and swam back up toward the surface. Sgileas barely realized what was happening, felt the warmth of Trahearne's body, the rush of water and then as they broke to the surface the cool of the night air.

“Pull them aboard!”, a voice yelled and Sgileas felt his body shiver, pulled closer against a warm chest and the familiar scent filled his nostrils. 

They were pulled upward and the lightness of Sgileas body lifted, he suddenly felt heavy and cold and then when he felt even ground again he realized he was lying atop a ships deck and saw the stars sparkling over his head, the waves gushing against the metal of the ships outer side.

A hand touched his cheek, made him turn his head and he saw Trahearne's face above him, frowned and blinked, shivered in the cold air. “Sgileas.”, he heard and Sgileas registered his name, but his brain did not compute at all. He was captivated and entranced by how beautiful Trahearne looked, how the pattern glowed like a fire that was burning within. 

“Blankets, we need some blankets over here!”, an asuran voice demanded, but Sgileas never turned his head away. His eyes were set on Trahearne and even though he had come to close to drifting beneath the waves, he was sure that he could drown in Trahearne's eyes.

Trahearne pulled the blankets over him, one after another, stuffed them under him and slowly, but steadily, warmth seeped back into Sgileas fingers and toes. His attempts at speech were no success, and he rather watched Trahearne anyway.

The firstborn rested his palm against Sgileas forehead, brushed over the foliage on his head. “You are safe.”, Trahearne told him in a whisper, and Sgileas wanted to nod that he understood, but the motion made his head dizzy. Trahearne sighed and Sgileas felt the slight brush of air over his cheeks. “You are safe.”, Trahearne repeated, but it seemed like this time, the firstborn said it for himself and his eyes were sad. 

“He's stable.”, a voice said. “He needs to rest and keep warm.”

“He is injured.”, Sayeh's voice cut in. “An undead blade cut into his back.”

“We will check on that once we have returned to Fort Trinity. Look, we are almost there.”, the medic answered. 

Sgileas barely registered being pulled onto a stretcher, lifted and carried. Faces swam by, but the one that truly mattered was by his side at all times, worried, wondering, waiting. He was pulled into a sitting position, saw Trahearne in front of him holding on to his shoulders and the medic smeared something onto the wound on his back after cleaning it, but he barely felt it. A bandage covered his chest – a notion where he would have liked to laugh, but he had no strength for that either. 

“All set. Rest now.”, the medic instructed and Sgileas nodded and slowly skittered to the edge and placed his feet on the ground and pushed himself to stand even though his body barely felt ready to stand at all. 

Trahearne held him with hand that clutched at his shoulders tightly, eyes full of worry, and Sgileas wanted to tell him that he was alright, that he would be, soon. 

“I'll help you.”, Trahearne offered, but it was more of an order, one Sgileas would not have refused even if he had wanted. He stumbled forward carefully, cherished the deep breaths he could take, the air on his skin, the stars over his head. 

Trahearne led him carefully and securely toward his quarters and opened the door with one hand while the other was still placed carefully on Sgileas back and closed it behind them, guided Sgileas to a small human bed and made him sit down. 

Sgileas obliged and watched from where he sat as Trahearne retrieved a small cup that was steaming and placed it in Sgileas hands. “Here.”, the firstborn said gently and then took the blanket from the bed, pulled it over Sgileas shoulders and bound it tightly around his chest.

“I am fine.”, Sgileas finally brought out, but it sounded weak and he cleared his throat. “Really. I'm fine.”

Trahearne looked at him with a strange expression, one Sgileas could not decipher. It was a mixture of sorrow and melancholy and then the firstborn closed his eyes and sighed, dropped down to his knees right in front of Sgileas and Trahearne's hands clutched at his shoulders, gripped tightly into his skin. “I'm glad.”, Trahearne brought out, and Sgileas realized that the expression had been one of  _pain_ .

A phantom pain of a hollow, deep, dark hole that had torn open in Trahearne's chest. The pain he had felt upon hearing about Sgileas situation, the pain he had felt as the insecurity had eaten him up from the inside like acid. A pain that had been a harbinger for the worst. 

Sgileas placed the cup onto the floor and grasped Trahearne's cheeks, pulled the firstborn's chin up so he would look up at him. “I'm here, Trahearne.”, Sgileas whispered and felt the hands on his shoulders tremble. “I'm not going anywhere.”

“I-”, Trahearne's voice broke and it made something in Sgileas chest shatter to see Trahearne so broken and vulnerable. “I thought you were...”

Sgileas leaned down and captured Trahearne's lips with his own, kissed him hard, silenced all the thoughts, the fears, the insecurities, wanted to kiss them away. Trahearne pulled himself up against him, his fingers digging sharply into Sgileas shoulder even though the blanket that rested there, but Sgileas did not mind. It meant he was here, that he could feel, that he was  _alive_ . 

When Trahearne pushed against his knees Sgileas pulled them apart, allowed Trahearne to come closer and move between his legs, pulling their lips together imperiously. He heard himself moan when Trahearne tilted his head, his head felt light and clouded and he barely registered when Trahearne slowly rose to his feet and pushed him back.

An arm held his back, Trahearne's lips were close on his own, barely leaving his own even for a split second and his body tilted backwards, he felt his back press into the mattress beneath him and Trahearne's knee push down into the mattress beside his thigh. Trahearne's other leg lay languidly on Sgileas pelvis, pressed down against him and he groaned when Trahearne shifted and the firstborn hungrily captured the sound as it elicited from his lips. 

His heart was beating harshly and warmth spread into his limps, his hands, his feet, even his head, and most demanding in his core where it boiled like lava. His hands roamed over Trahearne's shoulders, his neck, touched the ferns covering his skin, felt the bark underneath his fingertips and pulled Trahearne closer when he grasped into the foliage atop his head.

Sgileas moved beneath him, withered at the touches and Trahearne moved his leg that rested over Sgileas pelvis, brought it closer to the heat and the hardness beneath the robe. The younger sylvari gasped, broke free from their bruising kiss and drew in a sharp breath, hands trembling in Trahearne's foliage and the firstborn looked down at him, a voice suddenly protesting that he should not be doing this, that Sgileas needed rest. 

It was hard to resist. Especially when a primal part of him was so overwhelmed with joy that Sgileas was alive, that he wanted to feel the sylvari beneath him, to touch him, just to make sure this was no dream. 

Sgileas opened his eyes, had not realized he had closed them and was met by Trahearne's yellow eyes gleaming in the dim light, looking down at him, ready to devour, and yet a fight was fought in his mind, so obvious that even Sgileas could see it. 

He heaved a breath and opened his mouth, saw that Trahearne's eyes followed the motion with his eyes. “Trahearne.”, was all Sgileas could bring over his lips, all other words suddenly drained form his vocabulary. 

Trahearne sighed and pressed his body down, pushed their chests together and kissed him hard on the lips, and whatever fight he had fought it seemed won – or lost, Sgileas was not sure. The leg on his pelvis pressed down on him, moved up and down against him, creating pressure against his arousal and left him breathless. 

It was hot, his body felt like it was engulfed in heat, and the pressure was an urge of need, the need to be close, a drive that neither of them wanted to stop. 

In his hazy mind Sgileas managed to squeeze his hand between them to Trahearne's pelvis and cupped the hardness that hid beneath the ferns and heard the firstborn draw in a sharp breath, but it was too far for either of them to stop. Sgileas found his body singing to the building pleasure, rocked and moved up against Trahearne, and the firstborn moved against him in return, touched and kissed him at every opportunity. 

It built like a small wave, crashing and washing over him, threatening to wash them both away in that moment. He could not even thing of holding it back, only wanted to be close, to feel the body atop of him rock against him, the pleasure shooting up his spine and slowly drowning his mind in ecstasy. 

The room was filled with low groans and moans, clothing rustling and moving, until the noises rose and the urge and need turned into a desperate desire that made them forget everything but themselves, lost in the waves of pleasure and then it crashed over them both, engulfed them as they rocked and moved against one another, panting heavily. 

Slowly the noises died away, replaced only by rhythmic breathing until Trahearne pushed himself onto his hands, looked down at Sgileas, still trying to catch his breath and catch up with what they had done. 

Sgileas looked up at him with a loving and tender stare and Trahearne knew then that he did not regret what they had done. That he would not regret spending a single moment with Sgileas, only that he had done it so hastily, so urgently, so much without restraint and without a foresight to savor their time together. 

The younger sylvari lifted his head and met his lips softly unexpectedly. Trahearne leaned down to ease the strain and slowly broke away, cherished the look of Sgileas beneath him. He looked content, longing, and a little tired. Enough that Trahearne remembered what had occurred and he slowly raised himself off of the younger sylvari's body. 

A word would beak the silence, would shatter the moment. Trahearne could not bring himself to speak and slowly climbed off of Sgileas, pulled him into a horizontal position so he could lie properly in the bed and Sgileas frowned at him, but complied without a word. 

When he lay Trahearne joined beside him, lay on his side and faced Sgileas, saw that the beautiful eyes were watching him carefully. The firstborn pulled Sgileas closer and both rested in each others embrace, not a single word spoken between them and finally Sgileas relaxed and felt his mind drifting off, the warmth and comfort of the touch enough to lull him into an easy and deep sleep. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So? What do you think? I hope his is not too explicit, or otherwise I might have to change the rating. :p But this was a lot of fun, especially since I am still not sure about the whole dominance things, and I'll experiment a bit more, so bear with me. ;D Thanks for reading! Love you guys! Lessthanthree ~S


	13. True Prowess

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holla wonderful readers!  
> Did you notice that there seem to be a Jekyll and Hyde in Trahearne? Not quite going so far as to say it's a split personality, but going from "Die by my hand" to "Well done" and being all timid and conservative has always struck me as strange. Well. Here is what I make of it.  
> Whelp. If this continues I really might have to change the rating.

When Sgileas awoke he was confused for a few seconds. The surroundings seemed foreign as the sunlight flooded from a small window, the bed beneath him too soft for his tastes. 

What made him jolt into a sitting position was the absence of Trahearne. He searched through the room with his eyes, blinked away the slumber that clung to his eyelids and made them feel heavy. 

Trahearne was no where to be seen in the small room. The desk was filled with papers, piles of them and a few books, a pen and plenty of parchment with a few candles that had already burned low enough that they would have to be replaced soon.

Despite the fact that Sgileas wanted to search for the firstborn his brain was still partially dozy and as he lifted his legs and brought them over the edge of the bed. The wound on his back ached with a searing pain he credited to the wound healing. The blanket brought Trahearne's scent up in the air as he pulled it aside and he held on to it hesitantly, did not want to part from the comfort just yet, but the need and urge to move were imperious and made him rise to his feet.

The cup he had placed beside the bed now rested on the table, its contents long cold. It brought back what they had done last night and a warm, fuzzy heat coiled in his stomach. He gulped down the embarrassment at the actions. It had all come so fast. He had only meant to kiss, had never thought or dared to imagine what it might turn into. It made his head swim to realize how close they had come, and that Sgileas had misjudged Trahearne once more.

Where he had doubted the firstborn was interested in such things he now felt more confident, and embarrassed. Embarrassed because it had all been so fast, urgent,  _needy_ . 

Slowly he rose, ignored the ache on his shoulder-blades and slowly made his way to his own quarters to change and then to look for Trahearne. It gave him time to focus on the Pact, their mission, and especially their offensive against Zhaitan. Surely there was something he could do.

Thankfully, even though he had touched death yesterday, he felt little of it right now. He had rested, long and well, and felt refreshed and ready, a feeling that would surely prove and advantage in their current struggle against the Elder Dragon.

Once Sgileas had cleaned up and changed he made his way toward the Command Center, certain he would find Trahearne there. The Pact members gave him an awed gaze as he passed by, as if he had done anything to deserve such. 

“Commander, how are you?”, a Vigil Crusader asked and he shrugged.

“I am alright.”, he answered. “I am sorry, but I am in a hurry.”

“Of course.”, she replied and looked after him in reverence. He heard them whispering around him and even though he tried to shut it out, bits and pieces reached his ears. 

“I heard he almost died. Last night there was this huge commotion and nobody was sure if he would make it.”

A gasp. “Really? He looks perfectly fine.”

“Yeah.”, the other answered. “That's the Commander for you.”

Sgileas wanted to snort out a laugh. They were exaggerating. His life had been saved the second Trahearne had pulled him from the depths. He had been in no danger from hat point onward. 

But various such whispers reached his ears before he finally reached the Command Center and saw Trahearne stand among the others, and as soon as the yellow eyes met his own Sgileas felt his heart spike. They all stood around the wooden table, the map looked even more worn and torn than Sgileas remembered.

“Excuse me, friends, but I must speak to the commander.”, Trahearne suddenly interjected. “I'll send for the rest of you soon. Thank you.”

The others saluted him and were off, slowly moving down the ramp and stairs. “Among the living again, Commander?”, Warmaster Efut grinned and Sgileas smiled. 

“At deaths door is a befitting description for my profession.”

“It is good to have you back.”, Warmaster Efut said earnestly and then made her way down and disappeared with the others from sight. 

“How are you?”, Trahearne asked, and he was wearing that leader face once more, distant, but he could not keep the worry from his eyes.

“I am fine.”, Sgileas waved his hand to show it was nothing. “I came to report back from my mission, even though Sayeh must have already told you what we found.”

“I would still hear your account.”, Trahearne nodded.

“We came up short, but we saw two remarkable creatures. Three, actually, but we slew one.”

“Yes, an Eye and a Mouth. The Eye concerns me more. It always precedes an attack by Zhaitan's horde, so it must become our new priority.”

“How do we go about finding and killing it?”, Sgileas asked.

“I have two possible avenues: either we lure the Eye in with irresistible bait, or we comb its territory until we find it. Either way, once we locate it, we destroy it.”

“I am not one for intrigue, although it has its uses. I would lead the assault on this creature once we found its whereabouts.”

Trahearne's eyes frowned in concern. “Are you sure?”, he asked hesitantly. “There is no need to rush. We can spare one day for you to rest.”

Sgileas shook his head. “The whole Pact seems to know about what happened yesterday. Ever since I woke up they have showered me with awe and reverence that I am already standing after coming so close to my end. This inspires them. It is a great opportunity to show the strength of the Pact's leadership.”

“Sometimes I wish you would make littler sense.”, Trahearne sighed. “But yes, the news of your astounding strength of will courses around and already seems to be out of hand.”

“We still have time until we actually find the Eye.”, Sgileas soothed Trahearne. “Once we do I will be ready.”

Trahearne, just as the rest of the Pact did, admired this strength of will. His heart beat fondly, but he also remembered how very close death's door had been for Sgileas, to see his body drift into the depths...

“What happened?”, Trahearne slowly asked. It was clear what he meant from his careful tone, the slight hesitation. 

“Zhaitan roared when we struck its servant down.”, Sgileas explained. “The temple collapsed and I could not escape quickly enough and was pulled down into water. A rock restricted my breathing and movement and I summoned a minion to be my eyes and hands, removed some of the rocks and faded through the rock.” He shrugged as though it was barely worthy of mentioning. “I knew I had only very little time. I had not considered that help would arrive quite so soon.”

“That sounds terrifying.”, Trahearne murmured and Sgileas eyes softened.

“I was not afraid of the darkness, or the cold, or _death_.”, Sgileas answered. “I was afraid of what would happen to you...if I did not return.” Sgileas gulped, suddenly felt somewhat embarrassed to admit to his fear he had had so close to his death. It felt like a secret, an intimate one, one that showed into the depths of him, but he kept going. “It gave me strength and determination to survive.”

He wanted to be honest, wanted to keep none of his feelings to himself. What was the point of holding them back for a later moment? Reluctance, procrastination and hesitation were the harbingers of regret. And he regretted none of his feelings. None at all. Each emotion was like a layer, one more frequency adding to a spectrum. 

“I felt lost.”, Trahearne admitted and Sgileas saw the pained expression again, just a flicker of a moment on his features. “I regretted sending you onto that mission, and I felt that no information that you could have gathered would have been worth your life.”

It rose inside Sgileas, greedy and needy. He stepped closer to Trahearne, pulled the firstborn against him with two hands grasping around Trahearne's back, breathed a hot breath against Trahearne's lips. He savored the widening of Trahearne's eyes, the moment of realization and then leaned in to kiss him hard on the lips. 

Trahearne made a startled noise and Sgileas pushed him back against the table, heard the wood creak slightly when Trahearne was pressed against it. Sgileas kissed him hungrily, lapped at his lips, craned his neck to deepen the kiss even further.

If last night had shown Sgileas anything, then that waiting simply was not for him. That given such a splendid opportunity he could not be blamed to grasp it. 

Trahearne gasped and titled his head and Sgileas hands on his back flexed, gripped him a little tighter and pulled the firstborn against his chest. To have him this close, to be able to do this... it made Sgileas head swim. 

Someone cleared their throat and Sgileas broke away, stared to the side toward the stair where a priory member stood, cheeks flushed red. “I- I am sorry to interrupt.”, she mumbled, the parchment in her hand already crumbled from her tightened hold. “This letter arrived for the Commander.”

Sgileas reluctantly released Trahearne, felt no embarrassment at being caught like this – only a little frustration that they had been interrupted. He took the parchment from her hands and she hurried down the stairs out of sight. 

Trahearne pushed away from the table and brought a hand through the ferns atop his head as he approached. “What is it?”

“Caithe.”, Sgileas answered curtly. 

“I did not know you two keep contact.”

“We don't.”, Sgileas frowned. “This is quite a surprise.”

_Valiant,  
The world is cold, and quiet. The chill in my heart feels as though I stand at the heart of winter, even if I know it is not so. I hear that you have done well and struck a mighty blow against Zhaitan. I also hear that, along with the firstborn Trahearne, you have at last begun the true battle—the invasion of Orr. _

_Rumors of my companions abound. Rytlock and Logan travel north, toward the Citadel of Flame. Zojja chases after Snaff's legacy, never realizing that it is more than golems and crystals. She is in danger. I spoke to Eir at length and managed to convince her that we must go to aid our old friend—but my purpose no longer seems as clear. Not anymore. Why save the world, when everything in it is falling apart?_

_I hear of your victories, and I am reminded—perhaps there is still a reason for hope._

_Caithe._

“She hears a great deal.”, Sgileas mumbled.

“It would look like she it trying to reconcile. You two did not have a good start.”

“I thought her to be obsolete.”, Sgileas answered honestly.

“And what do you think now?”

“Her Wyld Hunt is entwined with mine. I would be foolish to not accept an offer to reconcile like this. She is attempting to bring Destiny's Edge together, and if she succeeds we will have mighty allies in our assault against Zhaitan, and experienced fighters that have fought against Kralkatorrik, another Elder Dragon. Their support would prove invaluable.”

When Sgileas looked up he noticed that Trahearne was not merely smiling. He was _beaming_. “Just listen to you, all grown.”, the firstborn said fondly.

“Everything has a right to grow.”, Sgileas recited. “And I grow best under your guidance.”

“I can take no credit for that.”, Trahearne argued. “You have surpassed every lesson I had to teach – and I am no longer a teacher.”

“No.”, Sgileas agreed and an astronomical force pulled them together, lips ghosting over one another. “No, you are _mine_. As much as I am yours.”

The possessive tone in Sgileas voice made Trahearne shiver. When had Sgileas become so sure of himself, of his feelings? His eyes were set and dark, pulled Trahearne in. Sgileas lips brushed over Trahearne's, teasing and light until neither wanted to keep up the shroud of taking it slow. When their lips met there was nothing chaste in it, nothing soft. It was hard and unyielding, demanding and impatient.

Sgileas pulled Trahearne closer, or Trahearne him, it was not quite that easy to tell. Hands roamed over backs, fingertips gliding over patterns and bark until both had to break apart when their lungs demanded air.

They stood close together, tight, and Sgileas breathed in the firstborn's scent, relished it and Trahearne's presence. Trahearne sighed, a breath ghosting over Sgileas cheeks. Slowly they parted, the distance felt too much, sapped the warmth from Sgileas, but even he knew he could not keep Trahearne here with him.

There was still so much – too much – to do until the time would come where Sgileas could hold Trahearne without ever worrying of having to let him go. “The others are waiting. You are welcome to stay, naturally.”

Sgileas chuckled lightly. “What is the subject that will be discussed?”

“Strategy, and how to proceed with our assault. Coordination of our forces.”

“Sounds like I will be needed here, then.”

It was Trahearne's turn to chuckle. “You are insufferable.”

“Once you start, you will have to finish a list of my charming traits.”, Sgileas teased.

Trahearne laughed, it rumbled from his chest and sounded light and unforced, and the sound made Sgileas heart sing and dance. He wanted to hear that sound again, as often as he could elicit it. “By the Pale Tree.”, Trahearne wheezed. “I'll make a list. But right now, there is a strategy meeting that needs to commence.”

Sgileas smiled. “Alright. Let's get started.”

  
  


“There are various points to strike.”, Doern informed them. “The temples hold various of Zhaitan's undead, and to gain a foothold we need to push into the territory and eradicate any chances of being collapsed.”

“The Eye and the Mouth of Zhaitan are a concern, but the main forces should focus on establishing outposts throughout Orr so that our assault can begin. The stronger our presence the easier it will be to finally strike.”, Efut supplied.

“Agreed. The Eye and the Mouth will be for the Commander to deal with. We should focus our efforts on the more imminent tasks at hand.”, Wynne agreed. “And I have faith that the Commander will bring down the servants of Zhaitan whilst we can concentrate on establishing a foothold.”

It was certainly the smaller of all the tasks that lay ahead. There were various troops pushing into the enemy territory, scouts going deeper and deeper toward Arah and seeking to canvas the terrain and find key locations for their troops.

“Then we advance. Malochor's Leap is only the first step. We should work on establishing a foothold near the temple of Lyssa and advance from there. There are various locations I have in mind.”, Doern mentioned and placed a few wooden figurines atop the map.

It hardly required Sgileas presence but he stayed, just because of his mandatory duty as well as to stay beside Trahearne. It took hours to select squads, to designate them to the outposts and decide on routes to deliver the supplies as well as the construction material. It would take not little effort to fight back the risen at these locations. They were deep in enemy territory and reinforcements would not come easy.

So for every outpost there was a backup plan, a retreat location, and a camp to reinforce it. It took a lot of planning, and even more time, and when they had finally decided upon everything the sun was already setting again.

The long shadows that drew over the walls made Sgileas wonder just how long he had slept. He had not kept count of the hours especially after last night. He was not even sure when he had fallen asleep.

They were just an inch short of calling it a day when a Whispers Agent hurried up the stairs, whispered into Doern's ear and then disappeared down the stair again. The human male began to speak before anyone could even ask,

“We have found the Eye. It is at the Blighted Battleground, to the south.”

“Then I will loose no more time.”, Sgileas nodded eagerly. “I'll gather my squad and-”

“I will accompany you.”, Trahearne cut in and Sgileas stood, open mouthed, and frowned.

“Why?”, he asked.

“The Blighted Battlegrounds are clearly Orrian terrain. My knowledge is invaluable there.”

Sgileas wanted to argue but bit it back. “Alright.”

The others seemed to have no objection, even if Sgileas had some left. He kept it to himself until they started their journey south toward Orr along the coast, and only when he was sure that their companions did not hear them did he finally snap,

“Why are you coming along?”

Trahearne looked at him in surprise. “I have told you-”

“Yes, you have said what _others_ like to hear.”, Sgileas grit out. “These missions, peculiarities you called them, are my forte. You are supposed to be behind closed, high walls in Fort Trinity.”

They would not reach their destination any time soon, especially since they had to make camp on the way. Night had fallen and covered everything in shadow, and the sole light they had was shed from a torch one of their footmen carried at the far front.

“I am not risking anything again.”, Trahearne replied, his voice was level with just a hint of melancholy.

“You do not trust me after what happened at the temple.”, Sgileas surmised.

Trahearne was quiet and after a long moment sighed. “This is not just about _you_ , Sgileas. I had thought that-”

“Marshal, there are undead ahead.”, the scout reported and interrupted whatever Trahearne had been about to say.

They cleared the passage and Trahearne walked closer to the others and Sgileas had not choice but to remain quiet for the remainder of the journey, the words Trahearne had said gnawing at his mind and heart.

When they finally settled down to camp in a small array of caves Sgileas was still brooding over what Trahearne had meant, and part of Sgileas began to understand. That there was no need to feel as though Trahearne had lost faith – this was not about faith or trust.

This was about coming closer, a bond freshly and newly formed, and so very nearly torn apart by what had happened to Sgileas at the temple. Sgileas remembered Trahearne kneeling in front of him, hands trembling, shattered, _broken_.

Trahearne _feared_. The firstborn had not lost faith in Sgileas abilities, did not trust him any less with tasks such as this. No, that was not it at all. Trahearne needed reassurance that Sgileas would be alright, needed to be close to him, just for a while to alleviate the worry.

His steps seemed deafeningly loud on the sand, the water welling against the shore in gentle, rhythmic waves. Trahearne stood solitary at the shore, water gushing at his feet and his eyes set towards something distant and out of reach.

“Trahearne.”, Sgileas brought the firstborn from his reverie and Trahearne turned around, looked at him over his shoulder. The pattern was glowing in the darkness and the beauty of Trahearne took Sgileas' breath away for a moment.

“Ah.”, Trahearne made and stepped closer toward him, the boots making a wet noise as their soles met the drenched sand. “I was just thinking that-”

“I am sorry.”

The firstborn looked stunned and looked confused for a second before he understood and his expression softened. With a gesture of his hand he waved it away. “It is quite alright, Sgileas.”

“No, no, it's not.”, Sgileas protested and stepped closer, reached out to Trahearne and gently placed his hands on Trahearne's hips. He needed to keep Trahearne here, needed the firstborn to listen. “I am self-absorbed and selfish, I know that. So in order to understand you have to tell me about your thoughts, your feelings so that I know you, so that I do not hurt you, so that I may ease your burden and pain.”

Trahearne was stunned into silence and Sgileas searched instead in his eyes for an answer, a reaction, and ever so slowly Trahearne nodded. “It is not easy for me.”, the firstborn admitted quietly. “As you have been absorbed by yourself, my Wyld Hunt set me on a solitary path as well.”

“We will learn.”, Sgileas said and pulled Trahearne closer, felt two hands grasp into the robe on his back and tighten their embrace. “Together, we will learn to rely on one another.”

Trahearne chuckled against him. “When have you become so wise, I wonder?”, the firstborn murmured against his neck.

“I want to know why you are here.”, Sgileas said and gripped Trahearne tighter. “And this time, I promise I will listen.”

“Sgileas...”, Trahearne protested. “It... I can't. Not here.”

“Alright.”, Sgileas soothed. “I understand.”

Trahearne was tense and only slowly relaxed into his arms. He inhaled his scent, relished the warmth of Trahearne's body against his and was content to stay like this.

The firstborn had been given a Wyld Hunt that had been beyond anyone's imagination, a task that seemed impossible to accomplish, a responsibility so great it had been a burden and curse in one. Trahearne had traveled into the accursed land of Orr, sought knowledge in the ruins of the broken land, knew this land as well as his own home.

And in all that time he had relied on nobody else but himself, had thought his task to be impossible and shirked any attempt to initiate its completion. Out of fear and insecurity, two vices he had carried with him, deep inside him, that made it hard for him to rely on anybody else.

Sgileas understood that and he would wait, patiently, because his understanding went beyond simple comprehension.

He loved Trahearne, and wanted what they had to last. He wanted to know everything that was to know about the firstborn, wanted to be his shadow, wanted to know him like he did himself.

They stood together in the darkness, the only sound the water softly washing over the sand.

  
  


The camp rose and packed as soon as the sun had risen high enough and they had been moving for about a few hours when Sgileas saw a massive wall of stone in the distance, a gate of bone blocking the passage ahead.

“Beyond that gate lies a courtyard.”, Trahearne murmured. “The Eye is somewhere past it, but not far.”

“And how will we get past?”, a Crusader asked when they stood in front of the massive bone wall and Sgileas touched it with his palm, felt the powerful necromantic magic flowing through it.

“I can remove it.”, Trahearne said and stepped beside Sgileas, raised his hands into the air and closed his eyes.

Even though he could not see it, Sgileas _felt_ it. The magic ripping free from beneath Trahearne's bark, constricted and kept there orderly and tightly by the fistborns will and discipline. It lapped into the air powerfully and Sgileas felt overwhelmed by its sheer force. The air seemed thicker and harder to breathe and distantly he heard essences wailing and screeching, knew that Trahearne was sapping his power from them instead of using his own.

Slowly a darkness rose from Trahearne's skin, enveloped him in a dark mantle that covered him in a moving shade. It made Trahearne look so very different, little like the conservative and reluctant sylvari that he displayed to be. It showed a darker side, a powerful one that Sgileas had not seen before. It was Trahearne's own Shroud, one very similar to Sgileas, yet it was stronger, more magnificent than his own had ever been.

The bone wall cracked and slowly sunk into the earth beneath when Trahearne lowered his arms, his hands trembling slightly at the effort. Dust rose from the ground and then, finally, the gate settled into the ground.

Sgileas was not sure why, but the fact that Trahearne hid the true power of his magic made him wonder and intrigued him. The power permeated the air, tasted almost delicious on his tongue and his skin tingled when it came in contact, burned hotly at the sensation.

He wanted to reach out and touch Trahearne, wondered what the power _felt_ like when he snapped himself from his reverie and in that moment Trahearne's eyes opened as well, the Shroud once more sunken back into Trahearne's bark.

“Let us go.”, the firstborn urged. “We need to spread out and move quickly, but keep each other in sight. I don't want—hang on.” Just as the dust settled they could see a figure approaching through the cloud, and then, quite definite, stood a female sylvari with a tattered and exhausted look, eyes that had fallen deep, dark shadows under her eyes. “What is that sylvari doing here?”, Trahearne asked in almost a whisper.

“You think you're ready to face the Eye?”, the sylvari cried. “You have no idea, none! We're all doomed, all of us!” She screeched loudly and ran away from them. Perplexed Sgileas stood rooted until Trahearne moved forward.

“I don't know how long that raving sylvari has been here, but she may know something useful. We should talk to her.”

“If we can catch her.”, Sgileas grumbled in dismay and saw the sylvari disappear behind a corner. “And for all we know, it could be a trap.”

“We will be careful.”, Trahearne agreed with a nod. “Spread out! Find the sylvari and secure our way out!”

Sgileas and Trahearne, as well as a mixed small party of Pact members followed the trail the crazed sylvari had left behind and found her cowering in a ruin near a broken open sarcophagus, her eyes swollen and red from tears.

“The Eye! It sees into my mind, into my Dream. There's no escape.”

“Be calm.”, Trahearne soothed. “We're here to help. We won't let the Eye anywhere near you.”

“But the Eye is everywhere.”, she protested with wide eyes. “It goes where it will, when it will. It looks, Zhaitan sees!”

Trahearne turned toward Sgileas. “We can still save her. We can take her back to Fort Trinity as soon as our mission is complete. It is another vile act Zhaitan will answer for. It couldn't corrupt her, so it drove her mad. I pray the Mother Tree can help this poor wretch.”

Sgileas had less hope than Trahearne did, but kept his thoughts quiet. “We have to find the Eye.”

Trahearne nodded and one of the Pact members hurdled a cloak around the female sylvari's quivering shoulders, escorted her gently back toward where their allies were keeping their escape route open. “It is not far. Come.”

Sgileas followed him over the dust and sand, surrounded by ruins that reached high into the sky, somehow merged with the natural rock formation they were built against. “A Gate.”, Trahearne groaned. “Of course, the gate is also sealed magically. This will take time.”, he tuned toward Sgileas. “Protect me while I work.”

“I will.”, Sgileas vowed. He would have done so without Trahearne even mentioning it and felt the magic seep from Trahearne once more, lapping into the air and permeating it. It was like an intoxicating scent that rose around him, engulfing his body and mind. He felt he could drown in the feeling and marveled at the other pact members that seemed completely oblivious to the magic.

They looked fearful instead, watching Trahearne with a mixture of anxiety and nervousness as the Shroud rose and engulfed the firstborn and the effect grew even thicker and stronger in the air. “Watch those tentacles up on the ridge—they're going to slam us hard.”, Trahearne said and Sgileas looked up toward the ridge, saw the tentacles slowly adjusting and facing them.

“Guardian.”, Sgileas ordered and a Pact Crusader stepped forward with a silver shield. “Shield us.”

The attacks from afar bounced from the blue shield the Guardian conjured and Sgileas watched the tentacles in anticipation, a smaller group of pact soldiers just ahead fighting a swarm of undead that had come to intercept them. Zhaitan must be keen on keeping the Eye alive.

“I'm making progress. Not much longer now.”, Trahearne grit out, and Sgileas turned his head in surprise. He could see the strain on Trahearne's features, but the firstborn was pulling through. The magic was all around them now, coming off in waves and pulses from Trahearne, lapping at Sgileas where he stood.

He gulped at the force of it, the overwhelming strength it had. The magic was like his own, only more powerful, stronger, _darker_. A part of him yearned to reach out, wanted to know what it would feel like on his skin. 

The shadows around Trahearne's body moved, lashed around the firstborn wildly and instead of being afraid, Sgileas felt exhilarated and excited to finally see Trahearne's very own Shroud. The shadows moved as though they had a will of their own and Sgileas wanted to step closer curiously, but noticed and undead that had managed to break through the Pact's line of defense. 

With a quick step Sgileas was in between the Risen and Trahearne, cut down the undead with a swing of his scythe. The undead fell to the floor without consequence, but he felt something moving behind him. He looked over his shoulder and noticed that the shadows had become less ferocious, and it almost seemed as thought they were  _looking_ at him.

The shadows lapping around Trahearne's body were a primal force every necromancer was born with. A power inherent in the very thing they were, a mixture of life and death incarnate. And they were  _looking_ at him, looking  _through_ him. 

Without thought he reached out with his hand, carefully, lifted it into the air, saw the shadow twitch, felt its power pulsing strongly at the very tip of his fingers, but before he could actually  _touch_ it, Trahearne finally finished his channel and completed his ritual and the Shroud dispersed into a dark mist and smoke. 

The air felt cold and bare, left Sgileas with a stark, naked feeling. He breathed heavily even though he had done nothing at all and yearned to feel that power again, that force, to see it unfold, to touch it - 

The gate opened and beyond was the Eye, floating in the middle of the air, covered by an exoskeleton. “We're in. Now to face the Eye.”, Trahearne said grimly and lifted Caladbolg with his hands.

“I will not lose.”, the Eye said and its gaze pierced Sgileas. “Sylvari. You shall suffer.”

Sgileas felt light. The air around Trahearne had been heavy, dipped with the most powerful magic he had ever felt, but now that it had lifted it was as though a weight had lifted from Sgileas shoulders.

The shroud answered instinctively and he spun the scythe in font of him until the point where it was an indistinct blur of black and steel. His body lifted from the ground and he surged forward through the air, felt the rush of it over his robe and foliage and felt his scythe meet flesh.

A cry tore through the chamber and Sgileas saw the blood spurting around him, a loud crack as the exoskeleton broke under his assault, and the Eye was pushed back, slashes covering its iris.

“You dare attack me?!”, it screeched and Sgileas stood, could not hold back his grin. He felt elevated, powerful, _unstoppable_. 

“I'll do more than that.”, Sgileas replied, but before he could launch another attach he saw a spark of lightning that surged from somewhere behind him over his shoulder straight at the Eye. The creature wailed loudly, convulsed in the air, stilled and then fell to the ground in a heap. 

Trahearne sheathed Caladbolg and stood beside Sgileas, eyeing their prize. “Well done, Commander. Now we have something for the researchers back at Fort Trinity to study. This Eye's corpse should tell us more about Zhaitan's servants, and how he communicates with them. Let's take it back to Fort Trinity...and that poor woman, too.”, there was small pause in which Trahearne shook his head before he continued. “She needs all the help we can provide.”

“The Pale Mother's presence may palliate her crazed mind.”

Trahearne nodded and they both stood aside as two Priory members seized the Eye and put it on something that looked similar to a stretcher and carried it away. The firstborns gaze drifted over the ruins thoughtfully. “This is as hospitable as Orr gets and most of it is much worse. I'm glad you're here to help me face it.”

“If it were up to me, I'd have you safe behind the walls of Fort Trinity.”, Sgileas murmured. “But if I am to face an undead horde and an Elder Dragon, I would do it with no other than you by my side.”

Trahearne smiled at him. “Let us return to Fort Trinity, so that we both may be safe, at least for a while.”

“For a while.”, Sgileas agreed.

  
  


It was dark night when they finally arrived in Fort Trinity, tired and exhausted, and once the Eye had been secured in some strange magical containment that Sgileas did not even bother to pretend to understand their part was done – at least until morning.

“Next will be the Mouth.”, Trahearne murmured as they watched the Priory carry the Eye away. “Once we know what the artifact in the temple was.”

“And how would we find out?”, Sgileas asked with a frown.

“We're going to send a small aetheric charge through the Eye of Zhaitan's corpse to try and project what it's seen. The goal is to witness what it saw right before we killed it. And since Orrian magic is so unpredictable, you will be there to keep things under control. We don't know what manipulating the dead Eye will do. That's why we will not be in Fort Trinity, but on a specifically crafted airhsip.”

“An...airship.”, Sgileas echoed.

“The airships are the Pact's crowning achievement: a combination of asura, charr, and human technology. The Pact developed the airships so that we might fight Zhaitan from every possible angle: land, sea, and now air. It is a project that has been under construction for a while. I am surprised you have not heard.”

“There is so much going on, so many new inventions and inventors tearing at one another to finally have a chance at building something new and different. I do not even remember how many asura I have heard proclaiming some magnificent and new discovery, an explosive, a weapon, a charger, an energy source... Now that I think on it, whatever happened to the idea to use energy from the Mountain?”

“Scrapped. The energy had too many fluctuations, and the destroyers proved to be an inconvenient package.”

“Great. Airships.”, Sgileas sighed. “I guess I will have to get used to it. The way to Arah via air should be the least difficult.”

“You might think so, and you would be wrong.”, Trahearne smiled and slowly trotted off toward the courtyard and Sgileas followed him. “The Orrian skies are filled with all kinds of horrors, massive giants that stand guard over passages, dragons that roam the sky under Zhaitan's will. Either way we will meet resistance, but Zhaitan's forces are strongest on the ground.”

“There is still much more ahead.”, Sgileas murmured. “The artifact, the Mouth, and this is war. It tears not only at those dying in battle, but we have to consider supplies as well. And the enemie's supplies.”

“Exactly!”,, Trahearne beamed. “I have thought the very same and I believe that we should strike at the Ossuary and cripple Zhaitan's supply of corpses. Lyssa's temple will play a major role in that particular mission. Many of the devoted were buried beneath, and it serves as a perfect nourishing ground for Zhaitan – and a perfect place for us to strike.”

“Why, you almost sound excited.”, Sgileas smiled.

“We are gaining on Zhaitan.”, Trahearne said. “With each passing day, with each victory I feel that we are closer to our goal. This proves that an Elder Dragon is no different than any other tyrant, that this is no different than any other war, except that it is against a foe of primal and unmatched power. To have a tangible target eases my uncertainties.”

“So we strike it's scouts, the Eye, strike the Mouth, whatever it does, strike down its supply of undead. And then?”

“We progress further into Orr, make use of the advantage that we have so harshly fought for. There is a Grotto near the temple of Lyssa we can secure, easily defensible and a perfect outpost for our forces. From there we can reinforce our troops and dig in, claim Malchor's Leap and proceed. The gear warband is currently constructing war machines, vehicles that can move over the land, heavily armored and able to fire shells like mortars. With them we can push our advantage and finally press until we reach Arah.”

Sgileas nodded. It was perfect that the plan was already thought out so thoroughly, that they were not merely moving on a whim. Not that he had ever thought that – he knew Trahearne better than to be quite so spontaneous. Trahearne did not seek the solitude of his own thoughts on more than one occasion just because he enjoyed his own company – his mind was constantly working on a strategy and a plan to bring Zhaitan down.

“There is one thing you have forgotten.”, Sgileas said slowly and saw the door to Trahearne's quarters ahead, a final destination for them both where he was not sure what would happen, whether they would part or...else.

“I am listening.”, Trahearne smiled and stopped in front of his door, his full attention on Sgileas.

“Your Wyld Hunt.”

It dawned on Trahearne's features and the firstborn looked solicitous. “It has crossed my mind.”, Trahearne admitted. “After the vision the Pale Tree showed us I thought I might try an old ritual that I know in the tomb that we visited. Perhaps there I will be able to reach the pulse of this land, faint as it may be, and cleanse the corruption.”

“That might work.”, Sgileas nodded. “Then your Wyld Hunt would be complete.”

“It...is still a grand task I feel I am not ready to face. But I know better than to wait, and your presence alone is a reminder that we have achieved so many things I had previously believed to be impossible.”

“It is not me, Trahearne.”, Sgileas argued. “We did it together.”

Trahearne nodded with a smile. “Yes, you are right. Thank you, Sgileas. For staying beside me during this journey.”

The pull felt irresistible and Sgileas stepped closer, caught Trahearne's eyes with his own, held them with a steady gaze even though his heart was beating hard and loud against his ribs. His hand grasped for Trahearne's and held it tightly, and then, summoning every ounce of courage that he had, Sgileas finally whispered,

“I'll be with you. Through this, and beyond. I...”, he took a deep breath. “I love you, Trahearne.”

He was not quite sure what had happened next, but the next second he felt Trahearne push against him, soft and sweet lips eagerly meeting his own in a rush of urgency. A groan escaped his lips and he lifted his hands, clutched at Trahearne's back and never wanted to let go again.

There was the soft click of the door and somehow they managed to stumble inside, Sgileas shoved it shut with a movement of his elbow and turned Trahearne around, pushed him against the door and pressed down tightly, squeezed the firstborn between the door and his body.

“Sgileas...”, Trahearne panted and the sound made Sgileas' head spin and his mind turn fuzzy. His hands roamed over Trahearne's chest covered by the light armor he had grown over his bark, the leafs rustled under his palm and he hungrily lapped at Trahearne's neck, kissed and sucked the skin between his teeth. “By the Pale Tree...”, Trahearne breathed and craned his neck, the skin stretched and a hot pulse of desire shot through Sgileas.

His hands gripped tightly into Trahearne's sides, roamed and explored every part of skin and he pushed his leg forward, pressed his thigh tightly against Trahearne's pelvis. The moan that rang through the small room made the need in Sgileas only grow and he wanted to see Trahearne completely lost, yielding and drowning in ecstasy.

He breathed in Trahearne's scent and noticed that it was mixed with something else, a scent he knew, one he had encountered just today...

It seeped from Trahearne's skin like incense, intoxicating and maddening. Power flushed from the firstborn in waves and pulses as the shadows and Shroud ripped free and Sgileas felt it under his palm for the first time.

It was like grasping into a field of soft static and warmth and he felt himself being pulled in, the air growing thicker and heavier, his mind turned murky and he was close to loosing his hold on his mind when all of a sudden the magic was gone and left the room that much colder, that much more austere and bare.

He panted heavily against Trahearne's neck, felt the firstborn's hands on his neck and back, pulling him closer in a secure hold. They were both breathing heavily and Trahearne was the first to speak.

“I am sorry.”, the firstborn said between pants, chest moving erratically underneath Sgileas weight. “That...should not have happened.”

Sgileas shook his head. “I didn't know.”, he mumbled against Trahearne's skin. “It's...inebriating.”

“It...really?”, Trahearne sounded genuinely surprised and Sgileas pulled away slightly to study Trahearne's face, to see a hint of dishonesty, but the shock was real.

“Yeah.”, Sgileas said. “At the gate today I felt it for the first time. I did not even know that our Shrouds could reach out, that your power is so much greater than my own.”

“People are afraid of the dark arts, rituals long forgotten, powers beyond their control and understanding.”, Trahearne said in a low voice. “It terrifies them. _All_ of them.”

“It does not terrify me.”, Sgileas urged. “I am not afraid.”

Trahearne was looking at him as though he saw him in a whole new and different light, as though a revelation had hit him and enlightened him. 

“You thought I was frozen in fear.”, Sgileas suddenly realized. His body had been tense, had sought to keep control lest the effect of the power overwhelm him, but he had fought not because he feared, not because letting his primal instincts was something he felt uncomfortable with; he had fought because he wanted to savor their time together, because he wanted to consciously burn the feel of Trahearne's body into his mind so that he would never forget it. 

“But you were not.”, Trahearne said slowly. “You found it... _inebriating_?”, Trahearne repeated, as though he could not believe it quite yet that he had heard right. 

“Yes. It is like an incense that lulls my mind and it's...” Trahearne's eyes were glowing in the darkness, asking, daring, demanding. “...arousing.”

The glow of Trahearne's eyes was coveting and that  _darkness_ Sgileas had felt at the gate, the strength of the shadows that was so much greater than his own crossed over Trahearne's features. It made him look darker, towering, and the smile that quirked at the corner of his lips left no question of who was in control. And Trahearne knew he was.

The air grew thick, humid, laden with energy. Sgileas breathed it in, his brain refusing to work, but he knew there was no need, anyway. Not when Trahearne looked at him like that. Not when Trahearne was willing to explore this...whatever  _this_ was. “Let us see, shall we?”, Trahearne asked lowly, and Sgileas thought he imagined it, but there was just the faintest echo in Trahearne's voice that resonated darkly around him. 

Sgileas felt it in the air, sparkling over his skin, enveloping him whole when Trahearne let his Shroud seep from his skin. It engulfed Sgileas and he did not bother to resist. He drowned in the feeling and felt Trahearnes lips against his neck, gasped at how sensitive he suddenly felt, how hot his body had grown, how the pulses of pleasure suddenly were demanding waves and vibrations that tore at his core. 

He was pushed back and his legs moved obediently until his knees hit the bed and he fell backwards, his body bounced against the mattress and he saw Trahearne move over him, the shadows moving around his body in dancing motions, the pattern on Trahearne's skin glowing beneath, a faint river of gold against dancing shadows. 

Sgileas head was too foggy, swimming. He felt like that one time where he had nearly drowned and his senses seemed overloaded. Trahearne's lips on his neck alone made him quiver, and the sounds he heard – he was sure those were his own. 

But he did not care. He moaned when he felt something brush over his arousal, his head began to spin and he clutched something, whether it was the sheets or Trahearne's back, he could not tell in his clouded mind – as he drifted and began to fall, spinning, drowning, deeper and deeper, down and under until his mind went black. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You did it! I hope you enjoyed yourself, I sure did. Writing this is incredibly fun.  
> Please remember that you can always also post your criticism, e.g. if you think I am loosing my touch or a character seems off. Be honest with me! Otherwise how will I improve? :D  
> Thank you guys, and the next Chapter will take a bit longer. ( A couple days, tops. I think. No promises.)  
> Lessthanthree, ~S


	14. Decode

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holla there ! Told you it would take some time, but I still apologize. I hope you enjoy this chapter :3 Aaaaand I changed the Rating. Just to be on the safe side of things. ;-)

“Sgileas?” A soft hand was on his cheek and he felt his head being turned, slowly managed to find enough strength to blink up at Trahearne.

The room was dark, except for the luminescent patterns that were glowing on their skin. Trahearne's yellow eyes shined brightly, and Sgileas did not understand why they looked so terribly worried and he was not sure how much time had passed.

He felt tattered and at the same time, content. A part of him fought the strong desire to close his eyes and sleep so he could answer, but all access to the his eloquent vocabulary seemed lost. “Hm?”, he made supine.

It did little to alleviate the worry in Trahearne's eyes, and only slowly did Sgileas realize that the firstborn was sitting atop of him, body leaned forward. “Are you alright?”, Traheare asked with concern.

Sgileas forced his brain to start. “Yeah.”, he mumbled and sighed contently. “Yeah, I'm fine.”

Trahearne did not look convinced and a voice in Sgileas head screamed that he needed to soothe the firstborn, but he did not know how. His skin tingled all over, his body felt unnaturally hot. All he wanted was to sleep, but that voice that protested in his head won.

He found enough strength to lift his arms and placed them languidly on Tahearne's hips and smiled up at the firstborn. “Really.”, Sgileas insisted. “I am fine. Don't fret.”

“You blacked out.”, Trahearne murmured disbelievingly.

“Yeah.”, Sgileas mumbled. “Sorry.” He was not quite sure why he was apologizing – it had had little to do with a conscious effort on his part, but he did it anyway. It had simply happened. He had lost all control over his mind and body and everything had felt so exquisite, fantastic, _overwhelming_ that in the end he had not been able to hold on. The memory was hazy and he could not remember anything specific, just that he had felt...good. No, not good. Great. High. Exhilarated. 

Trahearne sighed above him. “I should be the one to apologize.”

Sgileas shook his head. “Don't you dare.”, he grumbled. “'t felt good.”

Trahearne swallowed the lump in his throat and fought the heat that coiled in his stomach still. “You are something else.”, the firstborn murmured.

Sgileas smiled lazily. “Good of you to notice.”

“I am serious, Sgileas.”, Trahearne said, the tone so stern and direct that Sgileas could not form a single other jest. “I am grateful for all that you are. That I can show you all that I am.”

Sgileas gripped Trahearne's hips a little tighter. “Don't hold back on me, Trahearne.”, Sgileas insisted. “I want to know everything.”

“My Shroud is stronger than most.”, Trahearne explained slowly. “It overwhelms those that are too close with fear, and that has been another great burden for me to bear.”

“It must be freeing.”, Sgileas coaxed with a tender smile.

“Yes.”, Trahearne whispered. “More so than you realize.”

Sgileas reached up with his hands and rested them against Trahearne's neck, and as he pulled the firstborn down he whispered, “I think I have a faint idea.”

Trahearne sighed against his lips and Sgileas felt the warmth of the firstborn's body on his own, pressing him down against the mattress. The Shroud was gone, but Sgileas doubted that his mind could have held the force back anyhow. He felt too drowsy and content.

Slowly Trahearne pulled back, pushed himself up and placed his hands beside Sgileas head. Their eyes met and locked, and as Sgileas smiled so too did Trahearne. “I love you, too.”, Trahearne whispered and Sgileas heart felt like it exploded in his chest, a pleasant warm pulse vibrating through him. “When you did not return from the temple... it took something from me, the thought of loosing you.”

Sgileas waited patiently for Trahearne to continue, knew how hard it was to confess such deep, inner emotions. Trahearne seemed to struggle to find the right words and Sgileas saw a phantom of the pain cross over the firstborns features once more.

“I thought that if I keep you in my sights you will be safe, that I can prevent such a thing from ever happening again, but I know I can't always be with you on the battlefield, so I took the liberty of doing it while I can.” Trahearne took a deep breath. “I have felt loss before. So many friends and brothers and sisters that were lost in fights greater than ourselves, and I am not naive enough to disregard the possibility that you, or even I, might die in this war. But the thought pains me greatly, and I am so grateful that you possess such strength so that the chances of such a thing occurring are minimal.”

“We can not forget the possibility exists.”, Sgileas agreed in a hushed voice. “But if this battle takes my life, it would be a prize I would pay willingly.”

“Such a noble and heroic sacrifice.”, Trahearne smiled, and finally the grave atmosphere lifted. “I will prevent it to the best of my abilities. Until then...” Trahearne shifted and lifted himself from Sgileas, the pressure disappearing from his body. “...I have kept you long enough.”

Trahearne stood beside the bed and Sgileas suddenly felt more awake than before. “You are leaving?”, he asked with a frown.

“The work never ends.”, the firstborn chuckled and gestured toward the table where parchments and letters piled up.

“I would stop you, but I doubt I have the strength in me to be successful.”, Sgileas mumbled and closed his eyes.

Trahearne felt the warmth in his belly swirling at the admission. Never would he have allowed himself to dream that such a reaction to his Shroud was even possible, and that Sgileas had trusted him so completely that he had given himself over to his mercy. It was a different sense of power, but one Trahearne cherished above all others. 

The firstborn lifted his hand and placed it gently on Sgileas head, caressed over the foliage and Sgileas sighed, his eyes still closed. “Drowsy...”, the younger sylvari mumbled and Trahearne smiled.

“Sleep well.”, Trahearne whispered and shortly after Sgileas was asleep, the sound of his rhythmic breathing pervading the room. The firstborn watched with a smile on his lips before he reluctantly rose and sat down at the table, catching up on some much more unpleasant and tedious work.

  
  


A hand on his shoulder made Sgileas jerk awake and he blinked up at Trahearne in confusion before he remembered where he was. The firstborn smiled at him tenderly and Sgileas sat up, rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. “What time is it?”, he asked sleepily.

“Around noon. The airship is ready and Professor Gorr is waiting for us.”

“Who?”

“Priory, the one who made the machine to extract the memories from the Eye.”

“Ah.”, Sgileas made and Trahearne stood up from where he had been sitting on the bed and gave Sgileas room to throw his legs over the side. “I will join you.”, Sgileas mumbled and stood, stretched his arms out to the side.

He would have easily taken another few hours of sleep if it had been allowed, but duty called, and it could not wait. “I thought we would join the Professor together.”, Trahearne frowned and Sgileas gave him a long, searching look before he grinned mischievously.

“Oh, I can. But there is certain evidence currently conjoined to my clothing that I would very much to get rid of and change.”

At that Trahearne looked baffled and opened his mouth, but he was struck with momentary silence. Sgileas chuckled at the dumb-founded look and brushed past Trahearne, whispered just as he was walking by,

“Do not worry. I won't be embarrassed – if you aren't.” When Sgileas opened the door he turned to look over his shoulder, noticed that Trahearne had grown a shade darker around his cheeks. “I'll meet you there in five.”

Trahearne nodded and took a deep breath once the door had closed. Sgileas had a gift to create awkward moments, it would seem, and somehow managed not to be embarrassed at all. The younger sylvari was inexperienced and yet so completely uninhibited and open. Trahearne knew it was just another attribute accredited to the younger sylvari's great self-esteem and shook his head with a smile.

At least Sgileas had enjoyed last night  _thoroughly_ and  _evidently_ . That was definitely enough for Trahearne. 

  
  


“Alright.”, Sgileas said when he approached Trahearne on the ramp that lead up toward the airhsip. “Let's see what kind of information we can squeeze from the Eye.”

“It is highly experimental.”, Trahearne said as they ascended. “You are here to see that if things get out of hand they will be put back under control. My role is simply to observe and supervise.” That he was here because Sgileas was was left unsaid because it was a fact between them, and a secret no longer.

The ship was made from a lot of metal and Sgileas wondered how such a heavy construction would ever take to the air, but they had scientists for that kind of thing – he would know about it if he only spend enough time to study it.

The ship had a long snout that looked like a balcony of some sort with canons to the sides that could be manned by a maximum of six people, the path growing smaller as they drew closer to the ship's command center. Inside was a large room, a pair of stairs that lead up toward a platform and at the front the helm where the ship would be steered from.

The room was illuminated by a strange device in the very middle that kept the Eye afloat, and a female human as well as a small asura turned toward them when they entered.

“Commander, may I present Professor Gorr, who pioneered the theory of Elder Dragons consuming magic; and Scholar Vivian, a top expert on the Risen.”

The female human blushed when she saw Sgileas and waved shyly, whereas the asura folded his arms in front of his chest and looked up at him as though Sgileas had stolen a sacred device from under his nose. “Let us begin, shall we?”, the asura grumbled and Sgileas assumed the asura was disgruntled by their delayed appearance.

“It would be rude to keep the Marshal waiting.”, Sgileas shrugged and could not hold back his grin when the asura squinted his eyes.

“The subject is nearly ready to receive the aetheric infusion, Marshal.”, Vivian beamed from her console. “Aetheric readings: normal. Ready to begin testing.”

“Excellent.”, Gorr said and seemed to focus entirely on the task at hand. “Activate the aetheric infusor on my mark: three, two, one...activate.” The device seemed to start up judging by the noise it made and a beam of light shot out from it to the Eye. “All readings are within acceptable parameters. Subject is stable...it's working!”

“Confirmed. The projector beam is now ready for firing. Commander, if you'll do the honors?”

Sgileas moved beside her and she smiled at him, gestured toward a button on the side of the console. He was not quite sure why he was required for this task, but he pressed it anyway.

“The apparatus is functioning. How will we know when we have usable results?”, Trahearne asked, and Sgileas thought he imagined it, but the firstborn sounded a little annoyed and impatient.

“We should be seeing something any moment now—look!”, Gorr pointed. “There. There's our result!”

The woman beside Sgileas raised her hand, a gesture that could be mistaken for idle contact, and grasped his arm as if she needed something to hold on to, her eyes trained toward the Eye. “It's working.”, she looked utterly taken in. “We are seeing the last sights the Eye saw before it died.”

Sgileas wondered only briefly if he would have to tell her that she was not quite as subtle as she thought when he saw holographic images appearing in front of them.

“Soldiers? Where are they marching to, and why?”, Vivian asked.

“Is that some kind of undead servant?”, Gorr asked with a frown. “What's it carrying?” There was a sharp light that made the holographic image stutter. “Did you see that?”, Gorr gasped. “Zhaitan's agent just consumed a powerful magical artifact!”

“I saw it, Professor.”, Vivian nodded eagerly. “Your theory is now a confirmed fact. But what was that creature?”

“Let's finish testing before we interpret our results.”, Trahearne cut in.

“Look there: another Eye! What does it mean?”, Gorr asked when the holographic image had changed from the servant to the Eye.

“I'm not sure.”, Sgileas heard Trahearne murmur and noticed how the firstborn glanced around restlessly and their eyes met. “Commander, to the front. Something's not right.”

Sgileas pulled away, the fingers on his arm holding on a second too long for his tastes. He would have usually shrugged it off, but he thought that humiliating her in front of the asura was no good idea.

Just as he moved Grubs appeared from dark shadows, seemingly out of nowhere and he heard Vivian shriek in surprise. The grubs were few and weak, so much so that they barely posed a threat. The last one made a disgusting, squishy sound when Sgileas cut through it and as it fell a loud roar shook the walls, made everything around them vibrate.

The Eye of Zhaitan was still aloft and the holographic image of the other Eye was staring _at_ them. Sgileas frowned, wondered if it was more than a simple projection. Sgileas _felt_ Zhaitan's eyes on him, the aura and atmosphere felt sticky and stifling. “That roar...and that other Eye...it looked at us. Through us! And Zhaitan must see what it sees.”, Gorr said breathlessly and sounded afraid. 

“We're not done yet, nor are we out of danger. Commander, to me.”, Trahearne ordered and Sgileas swung the scythe fluidly, clicked it into the holster with a nimble movement and frowned at Trahearne.“Another Eye — and, by proxy, Zhaitan itself. I can feel its presence. The dragon knows what we're doing, and will send more of its minions to stop us.”

“So can I. It's like a greasy, tingling fog on my skin.” Sgileas shivered and wanted to scratch his skin just to get rid of the feeling.

Trahearne gave him a sympathetic glance. “Zhaitan's minion are here. They expect to remain undetectable, but I can reveal them.”

More, here? Undetected? Sgileas turned his head but he could feel no presences around them, and the fact that Trahearne could was just another piece of evidence for Trahearne's prowess. “You can do that?”, Sgileas asked surprised.

“Absolutely.”, Trahearne smiled a confident smile. “I can feel the invisible invaders all around us. Stand ready. When my magic exposes them, they will most likely attack.”

“Oh, they can try.”, Sgileas grinned and grabbed his scythe once more.

Trahearne shared his sentiment. “There's no way to know how many we'll face, but we cannot risk taking any along with us.”

“Then let's give our invisible friends a proper Pact welcome.”, Sgileas said darkly.

Vivian was watching the two sylvari from her station, had cowered behind the panel and hidden from view of the grubs when they had appeared from out of nowhere. She was fighting the anxiety and throb of her heartbeat that felt almost painful in her chest and wondered how the two sylvari could look quite so unchallenged and unaffected by all this.

There was nothing she could do but watch when the Commander turned gracefully with an excessive swing of his scythe, just a demonstration of his confidence with the weapon, with a wide, inviting grin playing at his lips.

He was the pure definition of self-confidence, esteem, dominance and prowess. She had seen and heard about the Commander, and now that she actually saw him she realized that all she had heard was true.

There was a rush of air and suddenly, all around them, appeared dark shades. She recognized them as Zhaitan's minions and squeezed herself against the console. “Look out! There are more of those things!”, she yelled.

The temperature seemed to drop when Sgileas passed by in his shroud, his scythe spinning in such a manner that it was but a blur to the eye. It appeared for only a split second before it disappeared into the darkness of shadow and smoke, and struck down at his enemies from an angle that was impossible to predict.

He made it look easy, she thought. All her knowledge of the Risen had proven only one thing: That killing them was no easy task, and that any that made it look like art were worth all the reverence they received.

The last enemy fell and Sgileas appeared, the Shroud dissipating into thin air and he lifted his hand, drew in the essences of his slain foes. It had been quite some time since he had acquired so many, and ever since the time with the lich he was especially careful.

“I sense no more of the Risen. I think we're clear.”, Trahearne murmured and approached Sgileas, stood beside him. “Our findings deserve serious scrutiny, but I'd like to hear your initial reactions.”

Vivian rose form behind the console and noticed that Gorr had done what she had when she saw his head rise from behind his panel. “I think we now have conclusive proof that the dragon sees through these Eyes. The readings, the ebb and flow of magical energy...it all fits.”, she murmured and glanced down at the panel once more.

“If these Eyes are how Zhaitan sees, maybe that all-mouth creature is how Zhaitan eats.”, Sgileas suggested to Trahearne.

“I concur.”, Vivian murmured and Sgileas eyes snapped to her. “Zhaitan's agents serve as extensions of its body, acting on its will. The Eyes survey, the Mouth consumes.”

“That answers many questions raised by my theory, actually.”, Gorr noted with a smug grin. “Now we know how the dragon hunts and eats. That's progress.”

“We can't let up. If killing the Eye partially blinded Zhaitan, then killing the Mouth should deprive it of sustenance.”, Trahearne concluded. “Pact scouts have traced one of the Mouths to its lair. I want you to head out there and ensure that Zhaitan starts going hungry.”

Sgileas nodded. “I'll starve that Dragon, you can count on it.”

Trahearne smiled at him. “We've identified an Orrian manor that's receiving shipments of powerful magical items on a regular basis. It's called Kitah Manse.”

“Is that the only target?”, Sgileas wondered, and Vivian watched the conversation, noticed how very obsolete she and Gorr suddenly had become. The two sylvari seemed so entirely focused on their task and Vivian could not ignore the strange notion that together they looked...dangerous. If both of them were to look at her at once, she would feel like even the deepest and darkest pit would not be safe.

“Yes, but there are two ways to attack it. We can strike at the Mouth in its lair, or we can prevent its food from being delivered. Either way, Zhaitan misses a meal.”

“Is one method riskier than the other?”

“Stopping the Mouth's food supply is safer, but less certain. Attacking it directly is more dangerous, but more certain...assuming it can be defeated.”, Trahearne murmured.

“You should know me well enough by now.”, Sgileas smiled smugly. “I can defeat it.”

Trahearne chuckled. “Your confidence is the reason I never doubt the outcome of a mission you take on.”, the firstborn smiled fondly. “Very well. I'll have Explorer Hekja muster a squad and meet you at Kitah Manse. Good luck, Commander.”

“I am assuming that you will not accompany me on this particular mission?”

“No, I am afraid not.”, Trahearne answered. “As you very well know, there is still much to do.”

“Then I will keep you no longer.”, Sgileas made a small bow with his head.

“Studying the Risen is my role in the Pact, but how do you deal with such horrors every day without going mad?”, Vivian suddenly asked and brought Sgileas from his focus, made him aware that the woman was there. She came forward from her panel and wiped away something from her palms onto her long, blue robe.

“I manage.”, Sgileas replied blandly, heard Gorr behind him initiating a conversation with Trahearne.

“I have heard a lot about you.”, she smiled up at him, and Sgileas thought it almost a shame that he was not oblivious to her flirting.

“Many good things, I imagine.”, Sgileas replied and she laughed.

“About your arrogance and self-esteem, yes. It is almost as legendary as the Pact itself, or so I am told.”

“Arrogance is a term invented by those too inferior to keep up in order to leech sympathy. I doubt that will ever change.”

“That is certainly an interesting view-point.”, she smiled. “I am sure it is not easy adjusting to the slow pace of others.”

Sgileas wanted to laugh at the irony; that he was talking with her, right now, and that she was apparently too slow to understand that he was not interested. He tried to think of a way to tell her in a subtle way of what he thought so that she would certainly get it, but she must have taken his hesitation for something worthy of sympathy and gently placed her hand atop his shoulder.

“If you have the time, I would love to hear about everything that you have learned about Orr and the Risen. There is so much you must know, and when I have a good day, I am not quite slow on the uptake, either.”

_I wish_ , Sgileas thought. He could hide behind his position, tell her he was too busy for such gatherings, but that seemed too cowardly and far from the truth. He did have some free time – time he chose to spend with Trahearne instead. “They can be cut.”, Sgileas said and noticed just the slightest shiver that made her tremble. “That is all the knowledge I require.”

She bit her lip and her hand fell from his shoulder, fingertips brushing over his forearm. “That is a very pragmatic answer.”, she admitted and Sgileas wondered if she finally understood. “But I am sorry, I have kept you from proceeding with your mission. I am sure we'll meet again. Fort Trinity is not quite so large.”

“Perhaps.”, was all Sgileas answered and turned away, noticed that Gorr and Trahearne were gone. He could have been more direct with her, but for now he was simply glad to be on his way.

  
  


It all went horribly wrong. The mission was a disaster, even if they managed to kill the Mouth – a battle that had been more difficult than any other Sgileas had ever fought – but they had lost many Pact members on the way.

They had lost the initial squad that had gone ahead to scout and search to a powerful mesmer illusion. Explorer Hekja and her squad had gone in – and never come out again. 

Upon entry the foul illusions were so obvious Sgileas had felt insulted, and in the dark corridors and sharp turns something had pulled their team apart, soldier after soldier, until only he, Agent Zrii, Galina and Snarl had remained.

They had stuck close together in the darkness, cautiously progressing forward until they finally had found their companions. Risen to the will of Mordremoth.

Fighting their own had felt bitter, even to Sgileas. And he had only found some revenge and satisfaction once the Mouth had been defeated. “Tired of Orr yet, Commander?”, Agent Zrii asked. She was a small asura, but her abilities to infiltrate and spy had been invaluable before, and Sgileas respected her a great deal. Especially after today.

“I can imagine spending my time differently.”, Sgileas answered with a shrug.

This was all the small-talk Zrii wanted to get into apparently, because she suddenly said sternly, “It's a shame about Hekja, but this could have been avoided. The Pact needs to train all of its soldiers to recognize and deal with illusions.”

“I agree.”, Sgileas said and held back his sigh. He had had his share of mesmer illusions and charades. “Zhaitan likes to play these small games. It is time we changed the rules.”

“I like the way you think, Commander.”, Zrii grinned.

“I don't blame you.”, Sgileas grinned back.

They arrived at Fort Trinity tattered and exhausted, and with less people than anyone had anticipated. He was sure he needed to report what had happened immediately and only waved after the other three before he turned toward the Command Center and toward Trahearne.

The firstborn was speaking to the others again, deeply in conversation when Sgileas approached. When Trahearne finally noticed that he was there – not that Sgileas had put any effort into being spotted at all – the firstborn looked surprised.

“Commander.”, he greeted and Sgileas bowed his head.

“Marshal.”, Sgileas greeted in return. “I am sorry to cut in like this. We have found the Mouth and defeated it, but Hekja and her squad were killed.”

“My scouts have already reached me.”, Trahearne nodded gravely. “If Zhaitan is using mesmers this heavily, it's pulling out all the stops to crush the Pact before we crush it.”

“It's right to be scared. We're going to bury it.”, Sgileas growled darkly.

“Quite. And precisely the kind of aggressive response we need.”, there was a short pause. “I am glad you are safe.” Anyone watching from the side could have easily mistaken Trahearne's tone as superficial, distant, just a verbiage, but Sgileas knew better. “Shall we discuss the campaign's next step?”, Trahearne smiled.

“Let's.”, was Sgileas curt agreement.

“We've reached the point where we need to establish a forward base on Orrian soil. Zhaitan's vast army gives it the advantage, but we're going to address that.”

“Right.”, Sggileas nodded, brain working on the problem and he remembered his discussion with Trahearne, remembered that the firstborn had already planned each step. “We need to stop it from making it any bigger.”

“Yes, and to do that, we must shut down the ossuray that creates Zhaitan's most formidable monstrosities.”

“Give me a location, and the ossuray will be no more.”, Sgileas vowed with such confidence that Wynne and Boern raised their eyebrows and Efut grinned from ear to ear.

“Excellent. As much as I hate to risk us both on the same mission, I must join you for this one.” Sgileas was surprised that Trahearne addressed it quite so openly. For a second Sgileas considered not to ask Trahearne why that was, but the firstborn gave him an encouraging smile.

“Why is that?”, Sgileas asked.

“We'll be dealing with ancient Orrian funeral rites and death magic. My expertise will be necessary to unravel all of the mysteries we'll encounter.”

“I'll be glad to have you with us, Marshal, and I will make sure that Zhaitan will get neither of us.”

“Thank you. I have some preparations to make before I'll be ready, and I imagine you want to rest after your journey. Meet me at the Pact camp outside the ruins of Wren tomorrow and the mission will proceed from there.”

Sgileas nodded, saluted and then was off. It felt a little awkward to leave the briefing like this, especially since he had become to used to being at Trahearne's side, but their tasks were different, and his right now was to write his full report concerning the events on his mission and get ready for his next assignment.

It was only his luck that he saw Vivian standing in a small group of people and she turned around before he could choose a different course. She beamed at him and waved, and her colleagues looked at him wondrously.

“Commander, over here!”, Vivian invited him and he reluctantly stepped closer. “What a lovely surprise.”, she smiled. “These are my colleagues. We were all part of the Priory before the Pact was formed.”

Sgileas nodded toward the group that stared at him in awe. “Your contribution is appreciated.”, he said, distant and a little cold, but Vivian seemed to find it endearing, clung to his arm and leaned against him in a wave of laughter.

“Don't be so stiff. Come, there is a small pub nearby, and the first round is on me.”

Sgileas had no choice but to obey and was practically pulled along in the group of scientists. Perhaps he should have been direct after all – or should simply tell her that he had _just now_ returned from his mission and was eager to get the necessities done, but a part of him was not sure she would understand.

As they sat down Sgileas stood hesitantly at the table, trying desperately to think of a way to escape. “I do not drink.”, he finally said with a frown and was met with raised eyebrows from the whole group.

“What? Why?”

“Why would I?”, Sgileas shot back at the norn that had asked that question. “For someone who values their brain, it seems quite counterproductive to decrease its functionality.”

“Yes, but we are off-duty. Our brains are allowed a break, too.”, Vivian soothed. “Maybe we will find something you'll like -”

“No.”, Sgileas cut in and sighed. There were multiple ways for him – he could easily make a few enemies here, he knew he was good at that, but he decided to use his work as an excuse instead. “There is much work left for me to do. The mission report -”

He was interrupted when another norn from a different table suddenly burst into loud laughter, rocking back and forth and holding his belly. The whole establishment gave the norn a curious and amused look and Sgileas cursed himself inwardly.

He _hated_ excuses.

When the norn had finally calmed down and Vivian was actually looking at him again she noticed he had not sat down yet, but before she could ask Sgileas suddenly seemed far away, distant and cold.

“I am not interested in such gatherings.”; Sgileas admitted bluntly. “I will see you around.”

Her mouth opened but he did not wait for her to protest. “He said he's busy.”, he heard another tell her and was glad one of them had heard, at least.

The air outside the pub was refreshing and cool, and he relished the silence that settled over him. It had been quite some time since he had been alone and sought the solitude of his own thoughts.

He made his way to his quarters the quickest way possible and wasted no time with anything else. The chair scraped over the floor when he pulled it from the desk, sat down and wrote his report. It took him half an hour and wondered if Trahearne would want it immediately, or if he should simply put it atop the pile of other letters, reports and parchments that already rose on Trahearne's desk.

The firstborn had said there were still some tasks he had to do, and Sgileas wondered what those tasks were. Certainly Trahearne would have asked him for help if there was anything Sgileas could do, and so Sgileas was convinced that bothering Trahearne at work was not a good idea.

There was plenty of time yet, and even though the journey to and fro Orr left him somewhat exhausted, he did not think he could sleep until the next morning.

He could use the time to perfect some of his abilities – especially the ones involving calling minions to do his bidding. It was a curse somewhat, because it had been the least useful ability to Sgileas yet. But now that without it he realized he would have died he thought that it would certainly do no harm to work on his techniques and spells.

So he left his quarters and sought a quiet and secluded place where he could practice his magic without anyone trying to chat him up. It was quite refreshing to be his own sylvari for just a few hours, so test and play with his abilities.

The creatures he called upon were mostly weak an simple-minded. None of them possessed a mind of their own, and the more strength Sgileas poured into them, the bigger and more macabre they became.

He tested how much he could pour into them, how long he could keep them alive, how many he could call at the same time. Surprisingly it was an endless cycle: The minions he called released essences upon their death he could collect, and as they circled his wrist he wondered if everything had a soul after all, even a minion.

There was time and room for such a philosophical argument and he sat quietly on the pier, stared out with far and distant eyes over the dark waters while his mind was elsewhere. He only noticed that quite a lot of time had passed by when the sun slowly sank on the horizon and he heard steps behind him that had been the sensory input to bring him from his thoughts.

He turned his head to look over his shoulder and saw Trahearne approaching with a questioning smile. “Sgileas. I thought at first that I am seeing things, but I should not be surprised to find you in a place such as this.”

“I have the report ready if you need it now.”, Sgileas said and slowly stood.

“Once we return I will have time to read it.”, Trahearne's eyes wandered to Sgileas wrist, saw the small essences circling and floating there. “You were experimenting.”

Sgileas shrugged. “I am no minion master, by far. The art of it is somehow lost on me.”

“I can show you, if you like.”, Trahearne offered and Sgileas looked surprised.

“I would like that.”

Trahearne showed him how to influence his magic to create not only a single type of minion, but others as well. Small shambling horrors that could walk on all fours, a particularly ugly creature that slurped on two legs, and one great monstrosity that looked as though it could lift a risen abomination if it came to it.

“Rise.”, Trahearne ordered and lifted his hand, and with a flick of his wrist multiple small horrors appeared and rose from the ground, shook off the dirt and dust and hurried to Trahearne's feet obediently.

The firstborn did it with such ease and finesse of which Sgileas could only dream. The power Trahearne had was enticing and alluring, and Sgileas could spend his whole life simply watching Trahearne.

“The minions answer only to one master.”, Trahearne explained and gave the minions at his feet a look. “You can not forfeit your control over them. Doing so breaks your connection, and instantly drains them of any life.”

Sgileas nodded and raised his hand. “Rise.”, he too ordered and felt the stirring in the earth as the minions rose, four of them at once, and they scrambled to their feet and hurried toward him, awaited his command eagerly and obediently.

“You can sap the essence of enemies around you and fuel it into your spell. That way you can summon more minions to aide you.”

“There is so much I still do not know.”, Sgileas murmured thoughtfully. “Did you know that the Shroud could reach out to others?”

“I found out at some point in time.”, Trahearne answered evasively.

Sgileas did not press, even though he was curious. “You had nobody to teach you. I am grateful you are willing to share your knowledge with me.”

“My knowledge is a combination of empirical experiences and acquirement of various written tomes and scrolls that concern our magic. There are various accounts, and not everyone seemed to agree on certain things.”

Sgileas regarded him thoughtfully. There had been something he wondered about, something that had been on his mind. Something he wanted to try.

Trahearne noticed Sgileas gaze. “What's on your mind?”

“I want...”, there was a small pause and he gulped. “I was wondering if...”

Trahearne chuckled. “You, nervous?”, the firstborn asked. “I did not think I would get to see it.”

Sgileas knew the firstborn was teasing him. “I want to know what my Shroud feels like for you. And if it is possible for our Shrouds to interact with one another.”

“I...do not know.”, Trahearne admitted. “There is no telling what it feels like. I have never heard of a reaction like yours before, and all my accounts are from scripts written by others. Then again, most spells mentioned in the scrips and tomes were not meant for this usage.”

“You said you found out that your Shroud could reach out.”

“Yes, I did.”, Trahearne nodded, but again did not dig deeper. “But never has one reached out to me.”

“Have you had many experiences?”, Sgileas asked carefully, a question that had weighed in his head for longer than he liked to admit. He had never been able to decide if it was worth hearing an answer – or if an answer was even necessary. So when he saw Trahearne hesitate he waved with his hand, a gesture of dismissal. “No, forget I asked. It is not important.”

There was a small pause. “You are the first Necromancer I am with.”

The emotions Sgileas felt were diffuse. Part of him was jealous – but of course Trahearne had had relationships before this. The firstborn was already over twenty years old, whereas Sgileas was not even a year old. To believe that Trahearne had not been curious would have been ignorant and naive.

The other part of him was proud that he had something they both shared and had in common. A part that made them connect, but Sgileas was not sure if that was a sign for the strength their relationship had. That at least it was a marginally new experience for Trahearne.

It was exactly this kind of mixed reaction he had thought he would have, and now he was not sure how to react. There was no need for jealousy, and excessive pride was of no use as well.

“Then you must be as curious as I.”, Sgileas answered with a smile and Trahearne studied him for a moment and looked relieved.

“I am.”, Trahearne confessed. “And while we would have time to explore those avenues, I am afraid it will have to wait. As you are probably well aware I have been up for a long time and I yearn for a nap.”

A rejection, of sorts. Not that Sgileas minded. “Of course.”, he answered. “I'll accompany you back to your quarters and you can rest.”

“I appreciate it.”, Trahearne smiled and they walked abreast, the minions they had summoned long gone.

“I have to admit it slipped my mind.”, Sgileas felt stupid for missing such a detail, but it all came back to him, now that he thought about it. After the events of last night Trahearne had gotten up – and never rested since then. “You should have reminded me sooner.”

“We used the time efficiently. I am glad I could help you and share some of my knowledge.”

When Sgileas saw Trahearne's quarters in the distance an idea struck him, one he was not sure how to express, or if he should express it at all. But perhaps speaking was for the best. “There is something that I would like to do, if you would let me.”

Trahearne unlocked the door with a soft click and turned to look at Sgileas with a questioning glance. “From what you have given me to work with I can hardly give you an honest reply.”

He stepped closer to Trahearne, eyes coveting and leaned forward so that he could whisper in Trahearne's ear, “I have been on the receiving end for long enough.” Sgileas saw the rise of Trahearne's shoulder and chest when the firstborn inhaled. “And I would like a chance to redeem myself.”

For a few seconds Sgileas thought Trahearne might refuse, that this was not the right time, that he had overstepped with his boldness, but then Trahearne gulped and Sgileas followed the motion on Trahearne's throat with his eyes. “And...what did you have in mind?”, Trahearne asked quietly.

Sgileas heart beat in his chest. “If you let me in, I'll show you.”

The chuckle that came from Trahearne was weak and feeble, and Sgileas knew that he had the firstborn wrapped around his little finger. “If you promise not to impose.”, Trahearne teased back and Sgileas heard the door opening, saw the motion of Trahearne's arm from the corner of his eyes.

“That depends on you, love.”, Sgileas whispered darkly, and even though he was far from snapping just yet he could not hold back from gently biting into Trahearne's neck and felt the shudder ripple over Trahearne's skin. He was not sure if it was the word or the action that had elicited this reaction, or a mixture of both. But it was enough to rile Sgileas into action.

He placed his hands on Trahearne's hips, pushed him backwards through the door and threw it shut behind him, barely paid it any mind as he continued to push Trahearne back, the sole light in the room coming from their luminescent glows.

Sgileas knew the room well enough by now, small and simple as it was, and guided Trahearne toward the bed where he pushed the firstborn down supine and climbed atop of him. The firstborns hands rose to his waist and gripped into his robe and he heard Trahearne's harsh breathing, saw the rise of his chest whilst his pattern glowed like embers.

He grasped Trahearne's wrists and lifted them into the air, drove them down against the mattress beside Trahearne's head. “Relax.”, Sgileas purred. “I've got you.”

Trahearne's breath hitched and the yellow, gleaming eyes looked hazy and filled with carnal lust. The firstborn looked like he would respond and Sgileas silenced him with a quick, chaste kiss and felt the sigh wash over his cheeks. When he lifted his lips from Trahearne's sweet ones he felt Trahearne's chest heaving a breath against his own and grinned, leaned down to leave a trail of kisses and bites along Trahearne's neck.

The light armor was grown from Trahearne's own bark, leafs and ferns hiding the body beneath, but in between patches of swirling vines and stems Sgileas could follow the trail downward, brushed the leafs aside when necessary and delighted in the sounds that he coaxed from Trahearne as he continued to canvas his body and moved lower and lower, his destination obvious to both of them.

Trahearne still seemed to have reservations. “Sgileas...”, he panted and lifted his head to look down at him. “You do not have to-”

Sgileas interrupted him by placing his palm directly over the hardness that strained against his light armor. He palmed it, grasped it, squeezed it, and Trahearne gasped and his head fell back onto the mattress, all concerns fled from his mind. “I _want_ to.”, Sgileas said darkly and worked with deft hands, removed all that kept him from his goal.

Trahearne's hands gripped into the sheets when Sgileas grasped it and moaned. The firstborn had asked him not to impose, Sgileas mused, so he would oblige and he leaned his head down and swallowed Trahearne's length.

A cry tore from Trahearne's throat and his body tensed, fingers growing pale as they gripped tighter and tighter. Sgileas moved his mouth along the length, teased the tip with his tongue, tasted it thick in his mouth.

The noises Trahearne made were music in his ears. The firstborn was holding back on the noises, Sgileas knew, how he knew he could not quite discern. He just did. Or perhaps a part of him believed that Trahearne could be louder. Or a part of him wanted him to be.

He lifted his hand and grasped the base of Trahearne's length, began to make pumping motions in time with the thrusts of his head and sure enough he coaxed free a loud moan that was sure to travel beyond the confinements of Trahearne's quarters.

Sgileas grinned possessively and moved faster, gripped harder, sucked Trahearne in and the firstborn was incoherent. In between moans Sgileas could make out parts of his name and then a shudder went through Trahearne's body as he came.

Gently Sgileas coaxed Trahearne through it, lapped up his spent and slowly rose to his knees, admiring the view in front of him. Trahearne lay supine and content, chest heaving with every breath. A sweet tang spread over Sgileas tongue when he swallowed and he made a mental note to revisit this activity again.

Slowly Trahearne opened his eyes and their eyes met, and Sgileas looked every bit as smug and confident as he felt. The younger sylvari leaned forward, the sheets rustling softly as he moved and placed his hands beside Trahearne's head, leaned down and left a chaste, tender kiss on Trahearne's lips.

When he lifted his head Trahearne looked like he might say something, but Sgileas shook his head. “Sleep.”, he crooned.

Trahearne sighed and closed his eyes and obliged. Sgileas lay down beside him and smiled when Traherne turned toward him to rest in his arms, and just a few minutes later the soft and rhythmic breathing of Trahearne filled the room.

The scent of Trahearne was all around him, and even if he would had tried to resist, Sgileas would have failed and with a content smile, he too fell asleep.

  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you like it? Did you like it enough to leave a kudo and/or a comment? It would make my day! :D Love you guys, lessthanthree


	15. Faith

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there! Not much to say, except sorry its so long! ;-) I wanted to make this two chapters, but could not find a good place to cut it in two without making one part long and the other short. So, yeah.  
> This chapter btw is the reason that I changed the rating. Cause...yeah. You'll see.  
> Enjoy!

Malchor's Leap. A harbinger for what Orr and all its corruption and wastes had to offer, which was not much other than water-eaten rocks, rotten ground and dirt and dust as far as the eye could see. The land was stark and bare and Zhaitan's magic hung in the air like a veil, stifling and disquieting.

“We'll start in the Temple of Lyssa. That's where the flow of the undead monstrosities originates.”, Trahearne was saying as they marched over the ground, dust rising where-ever they went. “I know a ritual that will show us actual Orrian funeral rites. I've studied these rites, but viewing them as they happen will provide valuable clues on how to proceed.”

“What kind of clues?”, Sgileas asked.

“We'll be able to follow a single corpse through the preparation process. That will lead us to whatever Zhaitan's minions are doing to convert the current flow of corpses into undead monsters.”

“I have to admit striking at Zhaitan's supply line is daring.”, Sgileas murmured slowly. “If it knows we are here we will meet serious resistance. And if it knows that both of us are here, the force will be even greater.”

“I know better than to ask if you are afraid.”, Trahearne studied him for moment. “But this has to be done – and there is nobody that knows these spells and rituals.”

“It pays off to be an expert.”; Sgileas grinned at him. “All I have majored in is Risen annihilation.”

Trahearne chuckled with a shake of his head. “As you well know, knowledge is not everything, especially if not used. I have not performed these rituals, even if I know of them. They are powerful and dangerous and may hazard equal consequences.”

“Do not worry.”, Sgileas resisted the urge to take Trahearne's hand because the other Pact members were right behind them, and even though he was not embarrassed to share to Trahearne was _his_ , that they were _together_ , he did not think it necessary to make a display. “ _I_ am here, after all.”, he grinned confidently.

Trahearne laughed and in the wasteland and barren surroundings the sound alone eased the tension that permeated the air. It also rose curious glances and knowing smiles from the Pact members behind them who rarely ever saw their Marshal smile, or grin, or _laugh_. It was a hearty laugh and held no trace of derision and the smile made Trahearne that much more beautiful and handsome.

Sgileas wanted to kiss Trahearne right then and struggled with the impulse for a few seconds, but managed to bring it under control. Instead Sgileas watched Trahearne, drank in the laughter, the sound, the sight, the _feeling_ of fondness in his chest.

“Indeed.”, Trahearne finally managed and settled for a broad smile. “With you here there will be nothing we, especially I, will have to fear.” When Trahearne raised his gaze toward the ramp that led upward toward the temple he was various Pact soldiers that had secured the place, and he was the Marshal once more. “Follow us! We're on a vital mission, and we need all the soldiers we can muster.”, Trahearne ordered and the Pact members looked quite startled that the Marshal was here, but fell in on them without any hesitation. “Form up on the commander! We must search the temple.”

“On me.”, Sgileas emphasized and took the lead. The temple was a large place, the fundament beneath their feet elevated from ground level a few stores high, the form a perfect circle. Pillars and passages lay gray and broken all around, and at each direction lay a small altar. A broad way lead toward the middle of the temple where another altar stood, sheltered from rain by a roofing.

There were various Risen that swarmed them as they tread the path, but none of them were of any significant consequence. “This is one of the most complex and powerful Orrian death rituals.”, Trahearne explained as soon as they arrived at the middle altar. “I'll need to perform different stages of it at several locations within the temple.”

“We'll be fighting the Risen every step of the way.”. Sgileas murmured, gazed over the various other altars that seemed to be so very far away, and along the many twists and turns and crevices he could see that the Risen were waiting.

“True. It's less than ideal, but we'll need to clear these platforms of undead so I can safely perform the ritual.”

“Is the ritual necessary?”, Sgileas asked. He trusted Trahearne and his decisions, but the fact that they were here, the leaders of the Pact, _and_ they were on a mission to cut down Zhaitan's supply left him a little anxious. Surely Zhaitan would strike at them to prevent them from succeeding.

“I'm afraid so. This place is steeped in the Lyssa's magic and Orrian necromancy. We have to tread very carefully. I believe this is the only way to learn what we need to know. Once we determine exactly what the ancient Orrians did with the bodies, and where they took them, we'll find the mechanism Zhaitan uses to craft its monstrosities.”

“And wreck it.”, Sgileas concluded and nodded. “I'll protect you.”

Trahearne took a deep breath. “Prepare yourselves!”, he called out to the Pact members that had begun to form a circle around the altar and kept any approaching Risen at bay. Sgileas would have to strike down anything that managed to break through – and nothing, he vowed, would get through him.

Trahearne lifted his hand and the air filled with his magic, invigorating and exhilarating. The air sizzled and sparkled, and a blue veil pooled at Trahearne's feet that showered him in a ghastly light. The firstborn closed his eyes to concentrate and channeled, pulled at his powers to enhance the magic and commence with the ritual.

Sgileas watched, entranced, enchanted, mesmerized. His chest filled with warmth, his heart beat faster and he took a deep breath, tore his eyes away toward the enemies that approached from afar.

The pulse of magic had a sound of its own, vibrating in the stone beneath his feet, and the sound of fighting seemed distant and faint in Sgileas' ears. The air gushed warm around him and he found himself marveling at the power the firstborn possessed once more.

Trahearne's Shroud rose from his skin, and Sgileas felt its power expand and when it reached him it infused him, empowered him, exalted him.

Risen were pushing from all sides and Sgileas remembered Trahearne's advice and lifted his hand, sapped and pulled at the life force and essences of the Risen around them, and with a voice dark and saturated he ordered,

“Rise.”

Shambling horrors appeared around them, for each Risen that the Pact fought there were two of his minions and he saw that some Pact members were terrified of their sudden and grotesque allies, but accepted the aid nonetheless.

The power lapping from Trahearne's Shroud was enticing and beyond anything that Sgileas had thought to be possible and wondered what the peak of Trahearne's power looked like.

Trahearne lowered his arm and opened his eyes, the Shroud sunk back into his skin and he sighed. Sgileas felt cold without it and the Shambling horrors died around them at the loss of sustenance, and a voice in Sgileas head protested that he could not sap Trahearne's strength like this, that it was not right for him to simply take and enervate him.

If Trahearne had noticed he did not mention it. There was urgency in his features when he looked at Sgileas. “Before Orr sank, this was the final resting place of Lyssa's most loyal followers. The deceased were brought here so the officiants could perform the appropriate funeral rites. We have to follow this ancient path to see where the bodies of Lyssa's faithful ended up.”

“Is that what that is?”, Sgileas nodded toward the ghost that was slowly descending the stairs toward the altar that lay southeast.

“Yes. We have to follow it.”

“Form up!”, Sgileas called. “Secure this Altar, the rest of you with me.” They followed the ghost, a human female that carried a bandaged bundle in her arms. She carried the dead toward the altar, and there laid the body to the ground and disappeared. “The first stage of the rite is grief. The loved ones of the deceased played and integral role. Here, they were encouraged to express the pain and rage they felt over the passing. They had to release these potentially destructive emotions before the rites could proceed.”

They fought their way to the northeast altar, and there the spirit proceeded similarly, and Trahearne continued to explain,

“This next step was largely ceremonial, but was observed by rich and poor alike. They offered a valuable gift in an attempt to persuade the priests to resurrect the dead. Naturally, the priests refused, but the act of offering and accepting rejection remained a part of the rite.” When they cut down the risen that approached them Sgileas noticed that the enemies forces came in stronger, steadier waves.

“How much longer?”, he asked.

“Almost finished.”, Trahearne gestured toward the last altar. “There should be only one platform remaining. The family faced the inevitable reality that their loved one was gone. Here they were encouraged to mourn, and to beseech Lyssa to ease their pain. They prayed to their goddess for relief, and to watch over the deceased in the Mists. Return to the center platform. That's where their rite will end.”

The central platform was held by their soldiers, but it was obvious how the Risen bodies seemed to pile up. Trahearne already hurried, and Sgileas wanted to finish this mission. He had a terrible feeling in his stomach, one he could not alleviate nor explain.

“With the funeral rites complete, the deceased moved on to the ossuary.”, Trahearne said, more to himself, eyes gazing over the outer ring. “Next they would prepare and inter the body—ah! See there?” He gestured toward a door that lay hidden behind a pillar. “They're taking the body down through that hidden door to the crypt below. That must be where Zhaitan's minions are creating new Risen soldiers, and that's where we need to be.”

“Then let's go.”, Sgileas urged, his eyes searching over the Risen. Why was he feeling so anxious? What powers were at work to make him afraid? He never feared. Not for himself, at least, and he cast Trahearne a glance.

He was afraid for Trahearne he realized and tore his eyes away. They pushed through the Risen toward the door even though the disquiet feeling only grew with each passing moment.

“Trahearne.”, Sgileas said, but the look Trahearne gave him was one of understanding.

“I know.”, the firstborn said. “Keep your guard up: the worst dangers lurk down there, too.”

“Stay behind me.” It was a mixture of an order and supplication. Their eyes met and time seemed to stand still, Sgileas felt his heart beating harshly and then, ever so slowly, Trahearne nodded.

“Alright.”, the firstborn said quietly, and at last the disquiet alleviated slightly.

Behind the door lay a ramp that lead below, further and further down and Risen ascended to greet them, and Sgileas was content to be the first blade that cut them. Undead soldiers, farmer, and unfortunate pirates met them, and even spider corrupted by Zhaitan's influence fell to his blade as well.

The stench of corruption and the foul magic of Zhaitan was stifling and prickled on Sgileas skin and when finally he saw the chamber ahead, he saw why he had felt anxious.

The Risen inside the chamber looked small and frail, but Sgileas knew better than to judge his enemy by appearance. One had an intelligent sparkle in its eyes, and the Risen had amassed beside it as though it commanded them.

“Who dares?”, the creature asked when Sgileas entered the chamber, scythe clutched tightly in his hand. “This is a sacred place. First to Lyssa, now to Zhaitan. Begone, or you will defile it!”

“You already defiled it when you betrayed Lyssa and desecrated the remains of her followers.”, Trahearne answered darkly behind Sgileas.

“Lyssa is gone.”, the undead dead-panned. “We serve the dragon now. Zhaitan will consume you all! Rise now, my servants. Rise now, and destroy these enemies of our master!”

The Risen around him riled into action, and more rose from all around them; they tore from cracked walls, tore from the ground beneath their feet and they were surrounded from all sides.

In the chaotic mess Sgileas saw small pots from the corner of his eyes as he cut through the undead bodies in front of him. Behind him Trahearne cried, “These urns contain a mix of spirit essence, interred remains, and draconic magic. They're our target. Destroy them!”

It was not only directed at Sgileas, but he was closest. He surged through the enemy line, created a lane of bodies where he had passed through. With a quick swing of his scythe the urn cracked open and the magic inside ripped free into the air, and a wail rang thorugh the chamber that was unlike anything living.

When Sgileas turned he barely blocked the weapon that came swinging toward his head. His scythe screeched at the contact with the blade and he saw the formidable Risen that commanded the dead of this place. He struggled against the Risen's strength and pushed against the blade, glared at the dead, hallow eyes that met his own.

“You defile this place.”, the undead growled lowly. “For your insolence you shall die!”

It pushed harshly against him with such force that Sgileas stumbled back, but he managed to catch his balance and swing his scythe over his head and cut in an arc, but the Risen evaded his strikes flawlessly.

He tried to gain some ground, his scythe moving in a flourish of swings, but the Risen dodged back with a surprising amount of dexterity and finesse. It was difficult to land a hit, and even more to to block its strikes. Sgileas wanted to push in, his scythe swishing through thin air when the undead ducked and struck from below.

His hands pushed down, the handle of the scythe blocked the blow for a split second before it broke. The risen blade rose into the air with force and Sgileas pulled his head back, but the blade cut from his jaw over his cheek and missed his eye by an inch.

The cut felt searing against his skin he grasped over the wound, sap flowing freely from within and he closed his eye, blinked against the pain and dodged backwards when a consecutive strike followed.

The blade swished through the air and the scythe dropped in two pieces onto the floor from Sgileas hands. The Risen's strikes were relentless and he dodged and moved nimbly, his Shroud protected him, but he did not get a moment of respite to cast.

He made a pulling motion with his hand, sapped the magically induced life from the Risen, but had to interrupt himself when it charged at him. He twisted and turned to the side, saw the blade from the corner of his eyes and lifted his hand to catch the blade in a desperate attempt.

The blade cut deeply into his palm and he clutched the rusted steel, his other hand grasped the Risen's neck and he glowered. The Risen's free hand clutched his hand that rested on its neck, tried to pry it off, but Sgileas drained the life from it with his fingers on its rotten flesh, felt Zhaitan's magic seeping onto his bark. It felt foul, stifling, sickening, and Sgileas blinked the sap furiously from his eye.

The life drained from the Risen and Sgileas grit his teeth, pulled every last bit of the magic out and then, all of a sudden, a sharp pain shot up from his abdomen. He gasped, saw the Risen in front of him grinning and revealing a row of rotten teeth.

Sgileas blinked and looked down at himself, saw that the risen had punched down into his gut and a strange array of sharp rings bored into Sgileas abdomen. In the one moment he looked away the Risen broke free, caught his arm from the air, twisted it, and the snap he heard was deafeningly loud, but the cry that tore from his throat echoed around the chamber even louder.

A kick landed on his side and he fell toward the ground, his main arm hanging uselessly and painfully and he turned onto his back, huffed at the pain and clutched the wound on his abdomen with his left hand. The cut on his palm was searing and pronounced with every movement of his fingers, but his focus was on the Risen that stood above him, towering and with a menacing look in its eyes.

The sounds around him seemed almost distant. He glared up at the creature as it lifted its sword, lifted his own hand to mitigate the blow when a glow burst through the creatures chest and Sgileas realized it was the tip of Caladbolg.

“Die by my hand.”, a voice growled and when the blade pulled free and the Risen succumbed to its own weight. Sgileas barely recognized Trahearne when the firstborn appeared behind the creature. His Shroud was active, pulsing and vibrating, and his yellow eyes glowed from beneath from the darkness.

Sgileas grimaced at the pain he felt, and Trahearne knelt beside him, casting a warily glance around them. A few of his minions suddenly stopped in their tracks, turned toward them and built a small circle around them. “Are you alright?”, Trahearne asked, and Sigleas could see that the firstborn had an injury of his own; a small cut that had scraped over the light armor on his chest, but had not cut deep enough to truly sap.

“Yeah.”, Sgileas answered for brevity. To tell Trahearne that his shoulder was dislocated, that his left hand was almost useless and he had to keep blinking sap from his eye was simply a bother.

Trahearne pulled Sgileas to his feet, mindful of his injured shoulder. “Can you continue to fight?”, the firstborn asked with worry.

“I won't let you down.”, Sgileas vowed with a grit of his teeth. “There is still strength in me.”

A minion died behind Trahearne and the firstborn turned around, swung with Caladbolg and tore a grave wound through the Risen that had approached. The sword glided through the flesh with ease and the Risen fell toward the floor completely lifeless. “These urns are our target.”, Trahearne said gravely when he turned around. “Go on, this time _I_ will protect _you_.”

Sgileas nodded and hurried toward the nearest urn, broke it down by crunching his foot on the fragile clay. It shattered more loudly than was natural, and the energy inside ripped free like a dark and foul stench that dissipated. Every step of the way Trahearne was around him, his minions holding any Risen back, and if one had managed to break through Caladbolg was there to answer.

The last urn broke like glass, and as soon as it fell to pieces the undead around them suddenly stood still. “The connection is broken!”, Trahearne cried. “Kill them!”

Corpses piled on the floor and once the last sword was sheathed and almost eerie silence settled over the ossuary. Sgileas gripped his injured arm tightly, held it over his stomach to alleviate the pain.

“Zhaitan's depravity continues to destroy everything it touches.”, Trahearne said into the silence. “At least now this place is safe. This place will create no more abominations. Well done, everyone.”

The Pact members that had survived – and by the looks of it not many – gave Trahearne a weary smile, and one or the other even managed to cheer.

“We've crippled the dragon's spies, food, and troop supply. It's more vulnerable than ever.”, Sgileas murmured and Trahearne turned toward him. “This is the time for us to advance and pay the dragon back tenfold.”

“Our forces are already marching further into Orr.”, Trahearne said. “It won't be long until we reach Arah now.”

“You mentioned a Grotto near here.”, Sgileas remembered. “Is it under Pact control yet?”

“Yes, it is.”, Trahearne nodded.

“Then we should head there.”, Sgileas urged. “Running to and fro Fort Trinity will only slow our advance. We can coordinate the troops from here.”

Trahearne nodded slowly. “We have to press the attack.”, he agreed. “We will head out to the Grotto and coordinate our forces from there.”

The minions Trahearne had summoned all slowly died, fell as small lumps of flesh and bone toward the floor, and he and Sgileas lead the Pact up the ramp once more. They encountered little resistance. Destroying the urns had given them an even greater advantage than either of them had anticipated.

“The grotto is this way. I'm told star-crossed lovers used to meet here.” Trahearne said as they moved into a small passage with high stones looming into the sky to the sides.

Sgileas blinked at Trahearne in confusion, was not sure what to do with that information. “Star-crossed?”

“Thwarted by bad luck.”, Trahearne explained, but Sgileas shook his head.

“I know what it means.”, he grumbled. “I am just not sure why that's important.”

“It is one of the many small stories that enrichen this corrupted land.”, Trahearne answered melancholic. “There is an entire culture that lies unraveled in these ruins, stories of people long passed, a lovers crossed by destiny. It is a great reminder that not all are quite so fortunate, and that even in the former prosperous land such as Orr these things were not uncommon. That they were much like us.”

“All we can do is restore the heartbeat of this land.”, Sgileas murmured. “As for its culture...I think it is lost.”

“Perhaps.”, Trahearne replied. “But it is one of our many tasks to ensure the knowledge is not lost.”

“A service and burden I will gladly leave to scholars such as yourself.”, Sgileas shrugged. “The knowledge is of no use to me.”

Trahearne chuckled. “And what of the spells and rituals that are buried with this great nation? Secrets passed down from one necromancer to another? You have already profited from the culture that once was.”

“I profit from _you_.”, Sgileas argued curtly. “It is you that acts as a keepsake for all the knowledge that would otherwise be lost. I would be unworthy of such a task, but should the time come to protect it with a blade, I will be sure to rise to the call.”

“Always the pragmatist.”, Trahearne chuckled.

Sgileas shrugged his shoulders. “I hope you are not surprised. That would be a rude awakening.”

“There was nothing rude about it.”, Trahearne was hinting at this morning where they had woken up side by side and Sgileas gave him a knowing smile. “Ah, we are here.”, Trahearne gestured toward the heavy defensive line the Pact had made at the entrance, a strong and tall barricade, scouts and even a canon. “This grotto makes a defensible command post. Only two ways in - this passage, and the seaway.”

The other Order representatives were here as well, waiting for them in a small tent. The whole Grotto was filled with life, Pact members rushing around, carrying crates and other materials, a great many other tents that looked like they had been built in a hurry – and were not meant to stay.

“Commander.”, Efut gasped. “What happened to your face?”

Sgileas sighed and gestured once again with a wave of his hand that it was insignificant. The cut that had missed his eye would not even scar. “A Risen and I did not see eye to eye.”, he jested and Efut laughed.

“I assume you took more than its eye.”, she grinned.

“The details are a bit gory.”, Sgileas shrugged.

“With recent developments we have to consider our options.”, Trahearne cut in. “What are your recommendations for our next move?”

“Full offensive, sir.”, Efut said. “We've cut away Zhaitan's supports. Now's our chance to attack the main force, while they're still reeling. We've got a whole column of charr tanks—devastating in open combat. And we've got the Iron Legion's top tank crew, the Gear warband, standing by to operate them.”

“I agree, but a land-based offensive would hit where the dragon is strongest. If we attack from the sea, we'd do more damage. We should take control of the Beacon Torch lighthouse. We can use its signal to lure the Dead Ships in, ground them, and then seize them.”, Doern added.

“Marshal, we've lost contact with the squad investigating lost artifacts. I want to send in an extraction team.”, Wynne interjected.

“Our three-pronged offensive could break this war wide open for us.”, Trahearne said thoughtfully. “It's time to decide, Commander. Where do you think you'll do the most good?”

The question caught him a little by surprise, but he did not show it. “If Zhaitan's forces are strongest on land, then that is where I need to be. I'm going to take the tanks straight to the heart of Orr.”

“Very well. Dispatch the troops. It is time to start the advance.”

The others saluted and hurried off and Sgileas felt awkward standing beside the firstborn. “What is on your mind?”, Sgileas asked and mustered Trahearne carefully.

Trahearne turned his head and looked solicitous. “I was wondering what Wynne's squad went out to find. She is rather secretive about this auspicious rumor the missing squad was supposed to confirm.”

“Where and when will the tanks arrive?”

“They will offload the tanks at Shelter Docks. A unique unit called Pale Reavers will meet you nearby and help you clear the landing site.”

“The Pale Reavers?”

“It was my initial idea. We sylvari are immune to the curse of undeath, and the Pale Reavers are given those dangerous tasks on which they could die. If they fail, they won't rise again, so it is a weakness that we can exploit. They are very brave and go into battle with the ultimate sacrifice always on their mind. I assigned Tegwen to lead them.”

“Tegwen.”, Sgileas echoed. “Is Carys here as well?”

“Of course. Those two are very close.”

Sgileas last encounter with Carys and Tegwen had been...unpleasant. For him. Becuase both had seemed quite inhibited and slow and weak, and to know that they too were involved in the fight against Zhaitan and here in Orr... It was a development he had certainly not expected.

“Ah.”, Sgileas made for lack of a better reply and Trahearne frowned.

“Is that a problem?”

“No. I am simply surprised those two are here in Orr.” He did not want to tell Trahearne what he thought of those two, especially _Carys_ because he knew Trahearne would not approve and try to change his mind. A notion that he right now did not have the patience for. “If that is all I will make haste. The sooner those tanks are in Orr, the sooner we can strike.”

“I appreciate that you are eager to get started, but the tanks won't arrive for another day. The scouts have told me that the ship is having trouble with Zhaitan's navy and navigating the dangerous shores, but they are trying to minimize the delay.”

“So I am stuck here.”, Sgileas grumbled out and regretted saying it out loud.

“If you have the desire to leave nobody will stop you; I am sure being a day early does not hurt.” Trahearne sounded hesitant. “But there is no need to rush. Especially in your condition.”

Sgileas was reminded of his arm that he still clutched tightly to his stomach and the wound on his abdomen, as well as the cut that rose as a line over the side of his face. The sap was long dried and cold, but his eye remained closed.

“I will have to fix my shoulder.”, Sgileas murmured.

“As it is I actually have seen my share of such injuries, if you would trust me to help you.”

Sgileas eye wandered to Trahearne's wound and up again. “And what about you?”

“This?”, Trahearne asked and pointed at the small cut that was barely visible underneath the ferns. Sgileas had only noticed because the stem of a large fern was cut. “It is no serious injury by far.”

“Look at me, getting all tattered and beaten whereas you get away with a scratch.”, Sgileas grinned.

“If you were not always quite so ferocious and reckless, perhaps you would get away with nothing but a scratch as well.”

“Then I would not get your attention. However else would I make myself visible to you?”

Trahearne laughed and placed a gentle hand on Sgileas uninjured shoulder and lead him through the chaos of tents and stations, panels and boxes, crates and supplies toward a tent in the far back. It was small, just another resting place out of many. On the way he deftly took a small bowl of clean water and a piece of cloth as well as a strange bottle from a crate, then he held the flap open and Sgileas entered, noticed that the tent was empty except for a blanket that lay neatly folded on the ground.

Behind him the flap fell back in its place and surprisingly, the sounds from outside were dimmed and faint. Trahearne pulled the blanket apart and spread it out onto the ground. “Lie down.”

Sgileas tried to pull his tunic over his head with one arm and failed miserably. Trahearne held back a chuckle and helped him undress, the air cold on Sgileas skin and suddenly, he was self-conscious about himself. Not that he thought he did not look even half as great as he thought, no. Simply _consciously_ aware that Trahearne could see.

His trousers reached up to his waist where they were fastened by a belt, and the wound on his abdomen had pierced through it into the flesh beneath. He felt Trahearne's eyes almost burning on his skin when he opened the belt buckle and let it click open and noticed how without the belt, a little pressure lifted and the wound thrummed.

He pulled the trousers down just enough to reveal a wound much like from a very small blade, the bark around it glistening with sap. It was barely a few inches long, and Sgileas noted with self-satisfaction that it was not quite as bad as it could have been.

When he lay down he noticed that Trahearne's eye were burning orbs, watching him attentively. He took a deep breath when he lay on his back, knew that Trahearne was watching the movement of his chest, and a teasing part of him felt satisfied that he had affected Trahearne enough already to see its effect: The firstborn was guarding his face, and obviously trying to focus on the actual task.

First was the arm. Trahearne knelt beside him and grasped the arm gently but firmly. “Relax, this will most likely hurt.” Sgileas nodded and relaxed. Trahearne waited until he felt the muscles relaxing on Sgileas arm and then pulled at the arm slowly, easing it back from its dislocated place back into its socket. The plop it made was almost satisfying, were it not for the sharp pain Sgileas felt and he grit his teeth, took a deep breath and noticed that the pain was already easing.

“Good as new.”, Trahearne smiled. “But you should not move or use the arm too much just yet, the structures in your shoulders were strained and may be impaired.”

“Alright.”, Sgileas nodded his head and Trahearne dipped the cloth into the water and began to clean the wound over Sgileas face, the cool water a stark contrast against his burning skin. He closed his eyes and held back his grin whilst his heart beat elevated in his chest. It was agonizingly long, the process of cleaning, and when Trahearne added whatever substance was in the bottle the wound stung and burned, but Sgileas managed to hold any of the pain from crossing into his features.

His hand was a bit more painful, and a small part of him was angry at himself for having allowed this injury. He would not be able to hold a weapon, not one as large as a greatsword or scythe or staff, at least, any time soon. The stinging slowly subsided and last came the wound on his abdomen and his breath hitched when the cold water dripped down and glided over his hip into the fabric of his trousers. He lifted his head and watched Trahearne, could see how very focused and concentrated the firstborn was.

His mind reeled when he thought about that they were alone, that they – or at least Sgileas – had time, that they could -

Trahearne shifted, lifted his body a bit and leaned over the wound to inspect it more closely, the hand wrapped in the cloth moving gently and diligently over the wounds' edges. The heat in Sgileas core felt unbearable and he was not sure if he should feel embarrassed or simply embrace this reaction. He fought with every impulse to grab Trahearne's hand or arm until his head began to feel fuzzy. He was getting worked up over such a little thing, just the fact that Trahearne was here leaning over him.

The wounds did not even hurt anymore. It was all shut out by Sgileas imagination of what they could do instead, and it sent a spike of heat into his core. His breathing was harsher than usual and he tried to keep it under control, but failed miserably. His mind – or rather his more primal part of it – was wondering why he held back, and when he had no answer he opened his mouth and panted, “Trahearne.”

The firstborn looked at him in surprise and saw the glazed eyes, the heaving chest, the fingers of his uninjured hand clenched into a tight fist. Trahearne's heart spiked almost painfully and his mouth was suddenly dry.

Sgileas looked carnal and lascivious, and there was no doubt in Trahearne's mind about what Sgileas wanted. The pause stretched into a thick and laden silence that made Trahearne's skin flush hot. “Yes?”, he asked slowly, a little breathlessly.

The younger sylvari's chest was moving up and down enthralling and it looked like Sgileas was searching for the right words when he answered, in a low and supplicating voice, “Touch me.”

Trahearne's mind swam at how direct Sgileas was, how uninhibited and open. The cloth dropped from his hand onto the floor and he lifted himself a little, placed his hands on both sides of Sgileas waist and trailed over the burning skin.

Sgileas sighed beneath him and closed his eyes, his body moved and arched up against Trahearne's hands. The firstborn's own breath caught in his chest when desire flooded his core and he heaved in a breath at the sight.

Heavy pants filled the small tent and Sgileas could barely believe how aroused he was, how very little it would take. The desire to touch Trahearne was imperious, but before he could tell Trahearne what he wanted to firstborn moved.

For the fraction of a second Sgileas was confused and then his brain took the liberty of stopping to function. His hips were straddled by Trahearne's thighs, warm and tight, and the weight that rested on his pelvis made him groan.

When he finally managed to open his eyes he saw Trahearne atop of him and his head began to swim when the firstborn began to roll his hips against his pelvis. The pressure on him was almost perfect, and Sgileas moaned – and then, suddenly, the sound died when Trahearne captured his lips.

The firstborn pulled away and looked down at him with an equal desire. “You are too loud.”, Trahearne whispered against his lips and Sgileas panted,

“I don't care.”

“I'll have to make you keep quiet.”, Trahearne warned and it should have been a warning, but in Sgileas hazy mind it was an arousing threat.

“Yes.”, Sgileas agreed and a pulse of heat vibrated through his body. His hand gripped Trahearne's hips and he lifted his pelvis to increase the pressure and he felt pleasure throb in his core, inching closer and closer to the edge. He rutted against Trahearne unabashed and needy, and when a moan tore from his throat Trahearne kissed him, swallowed the sound and pressed down against him.

The kiss was heated, hungry, eager. Their bodies rocked against one another, the pressure increasing on Sgileas and he wanted to cry out, but Trahearne's lips followed him relentlessly, kissed and savored every sound and muffled them into whimpers.

Sgileas was so close already he could barely hold it back. He was right on the edge but did not want to fall just yet, did not want this to be over, did not want this to be just for him.

He made a sound like a whine and whimper at once when Trahearne bit his lip and gripped Trahearne tightly, held on to him to ground himself and held him self back by a hairs breath. He panted heavily, his mind hazy and clouded, and he wanted to let Trahearrne know that he did not want this to be over.

It was hard to find words with Trahearne's hips rolling against his pelvis, creating friction where his body craved it most and in a last attempt to keep himself from falling his pushed against Trahearne's hips, slightly away from his pelvis and the firstborn stopped, breath ghosting hotly over his lips.

Sgileas caught his breath, panted heavily and met Trahearne's eyes glowing and smoldering with lust and desire and his resolve almost shattered. “I want...”, Sgileas heaved. “I want us both to...”

Understanding flashed in Trahearne's eyes. The firstborn smiled almost broad enough to be a grin. “Only if you are quiet.”, he issued and Sgileas groaned.

“I can't make such promises.”

Trahearne leaned down on him and kissed his neck close to his ear. “We are in camp.”, Trahearne whispered and Sgileas clutched at his back, whimpered at the warm breath that ghosted over his earlobe.

“I know.”, Sgileas panted. “But I can't... By the Pale Tree.” Trahearne bit into his neck and pressed down his hips and pelvis to brush against Sgileas. “I won't last.”, Sgileas whined and arched against him, his body betraying him.

Trahearne sighed against his neck. How was he supposed to take it slow when Sgileas made such an admission? When his body demanded to see the pleasure unravel and ripple over Sgileas skin?

“What do you want?”, Trahearne asked and Sgileas shivered underneath him.

“Touch you.”, Sgileas whimpered. “I want to touch you.”

Trahearne lifted his upper body and stared down at him and waited until Sgileas had caught his breath. They both barely ever managed to take it slow, the desire building up relentlessly and fast.

Once Sgileas had managed to start his brain up again he lifted his hands and let his hands trail over Trahearne's body, over the firstborns neck and shoulders, his chest and down toward his stomach, fingertips trailing over the light armor on the way until he finally felt the firstborn's arousal underneath.

He remembered what it had felt like in his hand, what it had tasted like on his tongue and his mouth watered at the memory. But Trahearne made no visible effort to move off from Sgileas and he took it as a sign that Trahearne meant to stay there.

With deft hands he trailed beneath and grasped it with his hand, heard Trahearne's breath hitch. He felt Trahearne's hands trail over his sides toward the band of his trousers and the firstborn pulled them lower and lower, tortuously slow, and Sgileas' chest heaved, his heart was racing and then, finally, he felt the pressure around his arousal loosening completely and he gasped when Trahearne's fingers curled around his length.

Their eyes met and Sgileas thought he might drown in those lustful eyes, that he would like nothing else better. Traheane groaned atop of him and leaned forward and their lengths touched, were almost glued together by the pressure.

“Thorns.”, Sgileas cursed and his body arched upward to seek friction. His hand on Trahearne's length was squeezed tightly and he could barely move it, and then he felt Trahearne's hand gently pull his fingers away.

“Let me.”, the firstborn said and Sgileas could do nothing but nod. Trahearne's hand grasped them both with a wide grip and Sgileas moaned at the feeling. His body pulsed with need and he moved his pelvis and felt the pressure increase when Trahearne leaned down and captured his lips.

They were pressed together, chest against chest, length against length, and Trahearne's hand was squeezed in between, made motions up and down. Sgileas gasped against Trahearne's lips, heard Trahearne groan atop of him. The edge came back, a sharp reminder that he would not be able to hold on and he held on to Trahearne's back tightly, his body rocked against the firstborn without a conscious command and tried to keep himself from coming and ending it all.

He was so close, closer to Trahearne than ever before. He did not want this to end. Did not want the hand on him to ever stop moving, for Trahearne to lift his body from him, for Trahearne to part from his lips.

Trahearne rolled his pelvis against Sgileas and for the fraction of a second Sgileas mind blacked out, but it snapped back into reality the very next and the pleasure was so exquisite it almost hurt. He wanted for him to not be the first, for Trahearne to feel as good as he did, but whatever reservations he had had were torn away by instinct and need when the heat coiled in his stomach, pooled in a molten wave of pleasure in his abdomen, nearly threatened to tear him apart in demanding carnal desire.

He wanted to cry out, but the sound was muffled by Trahearne's harsh lips and his body tingled, tensed and then he came, shuddered underneath the firstborn and his mind shut down, his body convulsed under the waves of pleasure that rippled through him and only slowly could he feel the ground underneath him again, his senses slowly returning.

It occurred to him that the heavy breathing he heard was his own, and he saw that Trahearne above him had the same look in his eyes still. Sgileas cursed himself for his lack of control and gulped, “What do you want?”, he asked Trahearne breathlessly, wanted to at least make sure he was not the only one.

“I am fine.”, Trahearne smiled down at him and Sgileas could feel his length pressing down into his pelvis.

“Tell me.”, Sgileas gripped Trahearne's hips, held them tightly because he was afraid Trahearne might move away. He would do anything the firstborn asked.

Trahearne inhaled sharply, clearly was fighting desire and discipline. “I am content like this.”, the firstborn explained.

“I am not letting you go from this tent until you come.”, he replied darkly. There was simply no way he would accept this. That he would let Trahearne go.

Trahearne looked reluctant and Sgileas wondered if it was embarrassment that prevented the firstborn to be open, and he slowly sat up, felt Trahearne's body weight on his pelvis, his own length languid. He formed his arms around the firstborn and without warning turned them around, heard the soft huff that escaped from Trahearne's lips.

Sgileas knelt over Trahearne and placed his knees beside his thighs, looked down at the firstborn with a mixture of frustration and carnal desire. “Fine.”, he growled. “I'll take what I want.”

Trahearne panted beneath him and Sgileas did not give him time to protest. He moved down between his legs, gripped Trahearne's length and swallowed it down his throat. The hitch of breath and the panting he heard were all Trahearne's, and he felt Trahearne's hand grasp into the foliage atop his hand, gripping him tightly.

“Sgileas...”, the firstborn panted and heat coiled in Sgileas stomach. He moved his head up and down, glided with his tongue over the tip and around the shaft, tasted in sweet in his mouth just as he remembered.

He sucked it in, pressed his tongue flatly against it and increased the pressure as he moved and Trahearne moaned lowly, his other hand gripped into the blanket beneath him. A shudder went over his skin and Sgileas took him deep into his throat, felt the pulse from the base of the shaft and it rippled upwards and into Trahearne's whole body, shook him where he lay on the ground, the spurts painting the back of his throat.

Sgileas saw the tension in Trahearnes body for only one more second before the firstborn fell apart. The body relaxed against the ground and Sgileas tasted him in his mouth, swallowed it down and a primal and carnal part of him purred at his accomplishment. When he released Trahearne's length he gazed upward and noticed with great satisfaction that the firstborn looked utterly ravaged and dazed.

Trahearne sucked in a deep breath and their eyes met. The smirk on Sgileas lips was well-deserved, Trahearne thought idly and craned his neck upwards when Sgileas moved upward to kiss him. Their lips met languidly and pliant, and Sgileas stretched out his tongue and pushed between Trahearne's lips and he gasped. When their tongues met an electric feeling surged through Trahearne and he heard Sgileas above him groan before the younger sylvari slowly pulled back.

“I had better stop.”, Sgileas smirked down at him. “Or I might start all over again.”

Trahearne made a noise in agreement. “You are insatiable.”

“You have no idea.”, Sgileas murmured, and the heavy and lascivious look he gave Trahearne was only more evidence. “There is so much more I want to explore. Heck, I haven't even seen you naked yet.”

Trahearne chuckled lightly. “The perks of sylvari armor, I suppose.”

“I want to.”, Sgileas said in a serious voice that made every reply die in Trahearne's throat. “I want to feel us connected.”

Trahearne's mind shut down for a second when the heat rose from his core into his head and short circuited his brain. He gripped Sgileas hips, met his eyes with an equal desire sparkling in them. “Me too.”, he whispered lowly and Sgileas chest moved when he took a deep breath.

“We will.”, Sgileas promised, and both knew that the time was not now. But to simply know that the desire existed in the other, that things would progress into such intimacy, to truly become one, it was overwhelming enough that both savored the moment of this reveal.

Trahearne reached up with his hands and Sgileas understood without words. The firstborn folded his hands in Sgileas' neck, pulled him down into a lingering kiss, sealing it like a promise.

 

When Sgileas met the Pale Reavers the next day he had to admit he was impressed by the idea itself, even though he knew it could not have been easy for Trahearne to ask these sylvari to risk their lives simply because their race was immune to the dragon's corruption.

But every single one of these sylvari was determined and eager, and it was exactly this kind of conviction they needed in the fight against Zhaitan if they meant to win.

“Ah, Sgileas!”, Carys waved with a smile, and Sgileas heart sank. She looked exactly like she had all those months ago, and Sgileas hoped that he was wrong to assume she was the very same idiot. A good-hearted idiot, but an idiot nonetheless. “Uh, I mean, Commander. It has been such a long time.”

“Commander, welcome to the Pale Reaver company.”, Tegwen smiled.

“Carys, Tegwen.”, Sgileas greeted with a bow of his head. “I have noticed that the docks look rather occupied.”

“That's one creepy-looking giant down there.”, a Crusader murmured.

“Two giants. Two definitely creepy-looking giants.”, another grumbled.

“C'mon. We can take two giants. Where's your sense of fun?”, Carys grinned and Sgileas wondered if it was bravery or stupidity; either way it took gall to speak so lightly of Risen, and perhaps in the time apart a few of Tegwens lessons had actually taken root in Cary's mind.

“I left it back at the Grove. I could go back and find it...”, the male sylvari murmmured, more to himself than anyone else.

“Time to go, soldiers. Commander, if you'd take the lead?”, Tegwen asked with a glance toward Sgileas and he nodded. “Weapons out, team. We need to be ready for anything.”

“We are going straight in.”, Sgileas said. “This is a time for kicking the door down. Attack formation.”

They formed up with practiced ease and followed him down the slope and over the rocks cliffs down toward the dock and easily took out the giants with their rifles, whereas Sgileas had not even needed to be closer than necessary.

His left hand was covered in a bandage Trahearne had cast around his palm, and a simple steel sword in its sheath bumped against Sgileas knee as he moved. It would be troublesome to use his non-dominant hand in combat, especially since his shoulder felt sore and hurt whenever he strained it too much.

Once the two giants lay on the dock lifelessly the ship finally moved toward them and ever so slowly unloaded the war machines that Sgileas was here to retrieve. **“** Hail, Commander! Gear warband, reporting for duty — with siege engines in tow.”

“I've always wanted to ride one of these metal thingies into battle. I'm so excited.”, Carys beamed.

“Now you're my kind of sylvari. We should grab a whiskey later.”, a charr grinned.

“Back to the task at hand.”, Tegwen said sternly. “Those tanks give us the tactical advantage we need to position Pact troops outside Arah. We'll finish unloading the war machines onto dry land and head to the Western Colonnade.”

It took them a while to unload, set and move them, but once they were on their way they were moving steadily, and other Pact members joined the effort to defend the column. The Pale Reavers used their stealth to investigate and scout ahead.

“All set, Commander.”, a human male approached him by the name of Beirne. “The Pale Reavers have scouted ahead, and Ballista Geargrind's tank column is ready to roll.”

“Good. Marshal Trahearne needs these tanks. We'll make sure he gets them, and we'll put them to use along the way.”, Sgileas ordered.

“Be advised, we expect serious resistance.”, Beirne cautioned. “The Reavers will be there to support you along the route. My squad will airdrop in at the target and prep the site for you. In the meantime, Geargrind and her warband are standing by.”

“Understood. Good luck, Tactician.”

“To you too, Commander.” The man saluted and then was off, and Sgileas moved at the front of the column, held the sword idly in his left hand. He tried to get a feeling to the weapon and regretted never having trained his ambidexterity.

Trahearne had told him that he could bring devastation without a weapon, that beside wielding the shadows around his weapon there were other options to explore as well. _“Minions are one, for example. But our power goes even beyond that. We are able to summon wells that empower us and swallow our enemies. We can suck life from a distance, and even when they get close, our Shroud never leaves us. Your Shroud will always protect you and provide you with a weapon you can wield easily. The sword is simply so that you are not empty-handed.”_

Wells. However would he summon one? He had never heard or seen such a thing. A well of power, of darkness. He tried tried to imagine how to distort his magic to built such a thing, and part of him wished Trahearne would have shown him.

“ _I have had over twenty years to discover my profession in all its magnitude. Do not be so hasty to discover yourself, and be patient. You might discover something that even I do not know.”_

“Have you seen all the Risen giants around here?”, Carys suddenly broke him from his reverie and he followed her gaze up toward what looked like a temple, a large, long slope leading up toward a platform.

“They're coming from a nearby temple. We need to level it, but we lack the firepower.”, Tegwen confirmed Sgileas thoughts.

“I have just what you need.”, the charr named Mangones Gearstrip grinned. “Ghostfire shells: highly experimental, highly combustible. Something we picked up from the Ascalonians. Someone simply needs to mark the target and signal me, and it'll burn. Make sure you woody types get clear, though. This stuff devours everything in its path until nothing's left. “

“Shoot them and distract them. Tegwen, Carys, on me.”, Sgileas ordered and the two of them fell in behind him. They managed to sneak by the Risen Giants and move up toward the temple. It was a wide area with a statue of a Goddess standing over a small altar, and on the altar stood a massive giant that was channeling a spell.

Sgileas had never seen such a thing, but he was content to interrupt it. With a little bit of effort – and a lot of Carys jumping in between the Giants feet and distracting it splendidly – the Giants fell with a loud roar and the ground shook as the massive body fell.

“Alright, set up and let's go.”, Sgileas said after he inspected the chief giants body. When Tegwen did not move he turned his head toward her with a frown.

Her features were unreadable and her eyes slowly lifted from the device in her hand to Sgileas. “The timer is damaged. If we trigger it, we won't have time to get clear.”

“We have to do something. These giants are getting bigger and madder all the time.”, Carys urged.

“I know. Just...leave it to me. You and the commander withdrawal. I'll signal the ghostfire.”

“Tegwen?”, Carys asked disbelievingly. “You can't do that. You'll be-”

“Doing only what I was called to do. For once, Carys, just do what I say. Go!”

Carys looked at her with wide, fearful eyes, and even she understood what this meant. When Carys blinked the tears away and turned Sgileas thought her braver than most. “We won't forget, Tegwen.”, Sgileas vowed.

The sylvari gave him a grave nod and he lead Carys down the stairs on the other side of the temple, gestured for her to follow him. Her features were empty, as though where all her cheer had been there remained nothing but oblivion.

Sgileas stood and waited, and when the ghost-fire shells rose into the sky to their target and the temple lightened up and the earth shook with a tremble he pulled his fingers into a fist.

So many sacrifices. So many unnecessary lives lost to an Elder Dragon that had nothing in its mind but consumption and corruption.

Carys eyes were hallow and glazed up toward the temple that crumbled and broke under the assault, stone cascading down toward the ground as it fell apart. Slowly he lifted his hand and placed it upon her shoulder and pulled her along. Even if he had thought her an idiot, a great inhibiting factor, she had grown and displayed a strength that even he could not mock.

She blinked at him and nodded, the tears still threatening to overwhelm her, but she fought them valiantly. Only when they reached the camp did she halt and take a deep, heaving breath. "I need a moment, Commander. I'm sorry. I know this is war, but I...I just can't believe she's gone. She was my partner. My friend."

“She died saving lives. We'll honor her memory.”, Sgileas murmured. He was not very good at comforting anybody.

“Count on that. She was a tough old stick, and she fought well.”, Ballista Geargrind said. “When we get home, we'll all raise a toast to her bravery...with the good stuff. And this time, I'm buying.”

“Tegwen is back with the Mother Tree now. Her memories, and our memories of her, will inspire generations of new sylvari.”, Crusader Afanen soothed and placed a gentle hand on Cary's shoulder.

“She'd love that. She always wanted to be the wise old elder that everyone listened to.”, Carys smiled through her tears. “For her, and for me: thank you, everyone.”

Whatever he had thought of Tegwen and Carys mattered very little now, Sgileas realized. The battle against Zhaitan left none of them untouched, and all of them had to make sacrifices so that in the end, all may be free from the Elder Dragon's corruption. And a small part of him admired Tegwen for her sacrifice, and Carys for her strength to pull through. It was not easy, he knew, and he too remembered the sacrifices that had shattered his own life, and wondered if perhaps Carys would be born anew like him.

 

They proceeded further into Orr into the Cursed Shores. A name that was befitting of the land, but yet was not very inspiring to those that tried to liberate it. Caer Shadowain was a rather small outpost, but well fortified. They stocked up on supplies before they proceeded with the tanks, and here, permeating the air and drenching he soil, Sgileas could _feel_ Zhaitan's presence closer than ever.

Surely the soft tremble in the earth was not merely giants stomping about. It was also the fear of the dragon for what was to come.

The scouts had spotted and undead mage near the outpost, and Tactician Beirne, Deborah and a squad set out to kill it. Sgileas meanwhile made sure the defenses were all intact and that everything was in order for Trahearne's arrival.

It made him nervous, watching the twisting slope ahead and waiting for the Pact members that escorted the firstborn to appear. To wait was excruciating and the anxiety nearly made him rip out his foliage.

First the squad came back, and Sgileas watched in dismay that once more many lives had been lost, and among them was Tactician Beirne. They brought him back on a make-shift stretcher and set him down, and Sgileas thought he was reading it wrong, but Deborah had glistening eyes and would not tear them away from the corpse.

When finally Trahearne arrived he noticed a familiar figure walking beside him. Sgileas moved out to greet them. “Greetings, Commander.”, Trahearne smiled. “I assume you already know Warmaster Laranthir of the Vigil.”

“Laranthir of the Wild.”, Sgileas corrected and Laranthir chuckled.

“It is a pleasure to see you again.”, Laranthir said and Sgileas nodded his head toward the sylvari. He was different than the others, a little distant, perhaps, but always polite. Not in such a superficial way that Sgileas felt showered and pampered, no. Laranthir was open and full of honesty, and Sgileas appreciated that. “Sylvari sing of your victories, and even the charr raise battle cries in your honor. You've been a spark to many flames.”

“I hope today will bring another victory for Tyria.”, Sgileas smiled blandly. “Marshal Trahearne, what's our goal?”

“I have created a ritual that might cleanse the dragon's corruption. If it succeeds, this mission could be a turning point in the war. My research suggests that the Royal Tombs were deeply sacred. They may still hold the connection I need to restore the land with Orr‘s fading life force. If the dragon discovers our attempt, he'll try to stop us. Laranthir will defend the mouth of the tomb. Give us all the time he can.”

“I will, Marshal.”, Laranthir vowed.

“If this is such a dangerous task should we not make sure that we have the forces to push back any Risen that might attack us?”

“We will keep the force as small as possible so that we can slip by unseen.”, Trahearne argued and gestured for Sgileas to follow him, and Laranthir trailed after them with a few other Pact members in tow. In total they were seven, and Sgileas did not like the odds.

“Everything is going according to plan so far.”, Sgileas murmured and remembered the time in Fort Trinity where Trahearne had told him all of his plans, and up until this point everything had gone as Trahearne had thought.

To Sgileas surprise Trahearne did not answer, did not look at him, did not have seem to have noticed that he had spoken. He had a far away-look in his eyes and Sgilead reached out with his hand and touched his shoulder. “Trahearne?”

Trahearne looked almost startled and gulped. “Forgive me if I seem distracted, Sgileas, but this is the culmination of my Wyld Hunt. I'm about to answer my life's calling. It's both exhilarating and terrifying.”

“And I am here to see you achieve it.”

Trahearne gave him a grateful smile, but the look in his eyes remained. It looked like he was afraid, and Sgileas wondered if he would feel the same if it was his Wyld Hunt instead that was about to be completed.

The tombs looked just like the time they had been in Orr when the Pale Tree had shown them a vision and Trahearne nodded toward Laranthir. “You need to hold this entrance. Our survival is in your hands.”

“I understand, Marshal Trahearne, and I won't fail you. You'll have the time you need.”, Laranthir vowed and both Sgileas and Trahearne disappeared into the tombs darkness.

“I can feel Zhaitan's power all around me.”, Sgileas grumbled. “The closer we are the stronger its stench becomes.”

“If my ritual succeeds, we will wash Orr clean of its corruption.”, Trahearne murmured. “It feels surreal to be here and...” The firstborn took a deep breath. “I must focus. Forgive me.”

“There is nothing to forgive, Trahearne.”, Sgileas smiled at him encouragingly. “I am with you, every step of the way.”

They waded deeper and deeper and met very little resistance, but every minion of Zhaitan they slew meant that they could draw the dragons attention to them, and time was of imperious importance.

“This is the place. We'll perform the ritual here.” Trahearne said finally. “The moment we begin, Zhaitan will know. Be ready for anything.”

Sgileas pulled the sword free from its sheath. “I am ready.”

Trahearne had chosen a corner where the last king of Orr lay, a small area easily defensible because it had only one way in, and one way out. Trahearne began to channel and Sgileas felt the powerful magic seep into the air around him, and where the stench of Zhaitan had been the air suddenly became clean.

A few seconds passed in which nothing happened and Sgileas felt tense and anxious, when all of a sudden the ground began to tremble and Zhaitan's roar echoed from the walls. It was a roar of anger and defiance, and Sgileas grinned.

 _Yes, Zhaitan._ , he thought with grim satisfaction. _We will defeat you and purge your existence._

Sgileas felt it. The earth rippled beneath his feet and a thrum went through it like a heartbeat. The faint but hopeful admission that it was not too late. The warmth of spring, the strength to grow. He felt it then, all flooding from Trahearne as he channeled the ritual.

A few Risen came rushing toward them, probably had been lost in the many twists and turns of the tomb, but Sgileas cut them down with ease. In the distance he could hear sounds of fighting and they grew louder and louder until all of a sudden he saw the Pact members and Laranthir falling back toward them.

“Marshal! The rearguard is overwhelmed! You must leave. Now!”, Laranthir urged and Sgileas cut down a Risen that tried to latch onto Laranthirs back.

The cry tore Trahearne from his channel and his concentration broke, and the spell seemed to shatter into a million pieces. The dismay and shock was visible in Trahearne's features and Sgileas cursed. “We have to hold them back!”, he ordered and whirled around. “Stand your ground!”

The wave of undead was massive. So many corpses pushed through to them that Sgileas could not see and end to them, and when he could simply no longer keep up with his sword he summoned his strength.

“Rise!”, he ordered, felt the horrors rising to his command and shrouded himself in darkness. He felt the familiar form of a scythe in his hands, even though it was only made from shadows and darkness and swung it with all his might, drove the sharp blade into the ground before them.

Just as it impacted with the ground Sgileas fueled the strike with the cool of his magic and there was a burst of white and blue, and all of a sudden the whole chamber was filled with silence.

Sgileas huffed and all the Risen stood frozen, ice covering their rotten flesh and he could see only faint movements, the twitch of a finger, the movement of an eye. With quick, successive strikes he cut them down, heard Laranthir behind him do the same, and the ice shattered and clattered all around them until the Risen had fallen.

When he lifted his Shroud it felt like someone had punched him in the head and he staggered, felt Laranthir's hand on his shoulder steady him. He quickly shook his head, forced himself to stand tall.

“No!”, Trahearne cursed behind them and they turned around. “We were so close!” Trahearne looked utterly devastated and shattered and shook his head in dismay. “By the Pale Tree...it's impossible. All this, all these lives, wasted. All for nothing.” Trahearne's eyes stared at the ground, glassy, _empty_.

“Trahearne, didn't you see? The cleansing worked!”, Laranthir argued eagerly and pointed toward a small patch of grass that had grown beneath Trahearne's feet. “For a moment, the spirit of the land rose up like a breath of wind.”

“We all felt it.”, Sgileas concurred. “It was as if Orr's own soul was fighting to be free. The ritual was a success.”

“But the absolution didn't hold.”, Trahearne shot back bitterly, and this failure must have cut him deeper than Sgileas had thought. “Though sacred, the Royal Tombs weren't strong enough. This isn't the heart of Orr. I wonder if such a "heart" still exists.”

“Do you remember the vision that the Pale Tree gave us?”, Sgileas asked carefully and stepped toward Trahearne, made the firstborn meet his eyes and lifted his hands to rest them upon Trahearne's shoulders. “An Orrian king spoke of "the Source." Perhaps it is not so much a heart that beats, but a Source that pulses. A place where Orr began.”

Trahearne looked disquiet and disbelieving, averted his eyes and thought for a moment with a frown creasing the line between his eyebrows and then his features lightened up like the sun coming out behind the clouds after a storm. “You're right.”, Trahearne whispered, looked almost giddy at the discovery and looked up at him. “The Source of Orr...yes! I think I remember hearing about such a thing. A priestess of Grenth spoke of it.”

“Those sound like a solid lead.”, Sgileas smiled.

Trahearne looked at him with the most grateful look in his eyes that Sgileas had ever seen and the firstborn pulled him into an embrace, rested his head against Sgileas' chest. “The Pact stands between Tyria and destruction. We cannot give up. For a moment, I lost my faith.”

Sgileas brought his arms around Trahearne and pulled him closer. “We can make it.”, Sgileas whispered. “Don't give up on us, love. We can and will defeat Zhaitan and restore the pulse of this land.”

Trahearne sighed against him. “Thank you.”, he murmured. “Thank you, Sgileas.”

Laranthir was shocked into silence, but did not make a sound in fear of breaking them apart and making his presence known. Instead he watched the two sylvari and thought that without their guiding light, none of this would have been possible, that they would have never made it quite so far in a fight against an Elder Dragon without either of them.

That so long as the Marshal and the Commander held on to their faith their success was an eventuality and not a mere probability.

 

“How can Grenth help?”, Sgileas asked with a frown. They were already on their move to the Cathedral of Silence after picking up a human priestess of Grenth, the human god of death and cold.

“The ancient priests of Grenth were said to be the keepers of Orr's deepest secrets. The Cathedral a terrifying place, half-shrouded in the Mists.” Sgileas could see the construction in the far distance, deep in Orrian lands. It was built into the stone and lead deep inside.

“This temple must have been magnificent. It's painful to see it so ruined.”, the priestess murmured.

“Its foundations were shaken by the destruction of Orr, but it's still standing. Good work, that.”, an asura noticed with fascination.

“Of course its foundations were good.”, Rhie dead-panned. “That's where they put the tombs.”

The awkward silence was only broken when Trahearne finally murmured, “Lead the way, Commander.”

“This is the first temple of Grenth in Tyria. This is the Shrine of the Seven Reapers.”, Rhie was gazing around the stone, the construction as she spoke.

“Who were the Seven Reapers? Priests of Grenth?”, Sgileas asked as he cast a wary gaze around.

“Mortal heroes that fought beside Grenth when he defeated the god Dhuum and ascended to the throne of death. They became his avatars. I can still feel the altar's sanctity. The secrets you seek are here, but Orrian rites were very different. I may not be able to call the temple guardian.”

“Don't worry. Where the faith ends, science begins.”, Pokk grinned. “This is my VOED—that's Very Old Energy Detector to you non-geniuses. At this setting, it triggers old emotional resonance—visions of the past. When we get to the altar, we'll watch the image residue of the Orrians, and see what they did.”

“Tell me about Dhuum.”, Sgileas directed at Rhiel, and the woman looked pleased to oblige.

“Dhuum was a cruel and unjust god who ruled the Underworld. He refused to allow resurrections. In time Grenth overthrew Dhuum and imprisoned him in the Hall of Judgement.”

“So, Grenth was born a mortal, then? Not originally a god?”

“Grenth is Dwayna's son, but only half-god. His father was a mortal sculptor, but that is one of the greatest secrets of our church.”, Rhiel grinned.

Sgileas was not sure why, but the power he felt in this place felt oddly familiar and surrounded him like a long lost but most favorite piece of clothing that fit perfectly. Grenth's powers of darkness and cold seemed to be the equivalent to his abilities, and when Sgileas saw a statue of Grenth his stare lingered.

Could it be that there was a connection? He had never truly thought about it. That his powers resonated with a powerful being such as a god. _A mortal_ , his mind corrected. _A mortal that ascended_.

Was such power truly possible? To subdue a god and take its place? He remembered a faint memory from the dream and the name Abaddon echoed in his head, the god from the temple he had almost drowned in.

The asura set up device and Sgileas was once again forced to watch ghosts of the past show them the way. They saw them approach a statue and after Rhie insisted they had to take their place he stood where a ghost had and heard Rhie repeat what the ghost had said,

“Where is the god to whom I may give my undying devotion? Where is the god to Whom I may beg revenge against those who scorn me?”, Rhie asked and Sgileas felt the surgge of magic like a gust of win as a creature came forth and rose from the ground.

“Follow where I lead, come whence I call, and the corpses of the dead will be yours to control.”, the Avatar said in a dark voice that echoed and Sgileas stood rooted under its gaze, its very presence engulfing him.

Why did he feel trapped under its gaze? Was it fear? _No_ , Sgileas realized. _It isn't fear. It is exhilaration._

The Avatar's eyes were shrouded and its gaze was cold and calculating, and Sgileas had never thought he would feel it, but right here, amidst the dark magic, the shadows and the cold, it felt like he had found his place.

Not like home. Home was the Grove, was warmth, Mother's beautiful smile. This was different. It was his calling, his powers answered to the creature that stood before him, and for the first time he wondered if his magic had been a gift after all.

“Hail, ancient one!”, Rhie greeted and the Avatar looked down at her. “Rise from your frozen tomb. I, your priestess, call upon you in the name of Grenth himself!”

“Who dares summon me? A true priest! Is there such a thing in this fallen land?”

“I am Grenth's servant, and we have survived many dangers to speak with you, Please, hear us?”

The Reaper looked down upon them and Sgileas felt tested. Its eyes lingered on him once more. “I see in your heart that you are no stranger to Death.”, the Reaper murmured, and Sgileas wanted to nod, but held the impulse back. “Very well. I will hear you out, but in return you will kill in Grenth's name. The keeper of this shrine has fallen to Zhaitan. Grenth wishes him returned, but I am too weak to perform the task. Destroy the keeper, and I will answer your questions.”

“Thank you, dark Reaper. We will do as you have asked.”, Trahearne said and only then was Sgileas reminded once more that he was not alone. He felt a hand pull at his arm and tug him away and noticed that Trahearne gave him a stern but concerned look.

“It is our power.”, Sgileas breathed in awe. “Their God of death is the manifestation of what we are.”

“A god is a powerful being worshiped by many. But our powers are not a reflection of their existence, and neither are we to theirs.”, Trahearne said calmly.

“I feel drawn to it.”, Sgileas confessed and Trahearne nodded.

“I understand. To seek the root of your power however is a task no Reaper nor a god can help you with. The root of it lies within you, and within the purpose that drives you.”

Sgileas nodded gravely. “I know.”, he murmured. “I know that I was gifted with strength not for myself, but so I would see my Wyld Hunt through and liberate those that have none from the oppression of others.”

As they ascended the stairs they could see the mentioned priest ahead, contorted and twisted under Zhaitan's influence. “Is that the realization you had after Claw Island?”, Trahearne asked carefully and lowly so that it was only for their ears.

“Yes.”

Trahearne smiled sadly at him. Sgileas understood why it was sad: His revelation had come at a high prize. Forgal's life. One sacrifice that had changed his life and had shown him how very important his task was.

They slew the Risen and returned to the Reaper. “We've fulfilled our part of the bargain, Reaper. Will you honor yours?”, Trahearne asked.

“So shall it be. You seek the heart of Orr? Then you must go to the very beginning. The rock where the gods first set foot upon this world. There is an artesian well hidden in the mountains behind the temple of Melandru. There, you will find the place where Orr began.”

This meant that Trahearne could succeed, that his Wyld Hunt was not an impossibility. “We'll go there and cleanse this land of the dragon's corruption. Orr will once again be free.”

“Let it be so.”, the Reaper said. “I will see you again, heroes... in every swing of your enemy's blade, I will be there.”

It disappeared into a cloud of smoke and Sgileas turned toward Trahearne, noticed that the firstborn was smiling. “The Source of Orr.”, Trahearne sighed.

“We can do this.”, Sgileas encouraged and took his hand. He felt ecstatic, gleeful, joyous. More so for Trahearne than himself.

“Yes.”, Trahearne agreed weakly. “We will make preparations. Come. It is time to cleanse Orr.”

 

The Pact advanced toward Melandrus reliquary and from there toward the small cavern that lead through the stone toward the Source of Orr. At their side stood the Pact members, friends and companions that had stood through so much already, that would now have to hold the line so that Trahearne could succeed with his ritual.

Eagerly they awaited the firstborn to speak and when Sgileas nodded toward him, Trahearne finally spoke. “Soldiers of the Pact, you are not merely our best hope. You are our only hope. Your duty is to defend this entrance against the servants of the dragon, Zhaitan. The torch of renewal is in your hands. Together, we'll ignite a fire to burn away the corruption—and set Orr free!”

The pact members cheered and Sgileas saw many familiar faces among them; there was General Almorra Soulkeeper and her second-in-command, Laranthir of the Wild and Carys as well, who had taken upon the mantle of leading the Pale Reavers.

There were Galina, Snarl and Mira from Claw Island and Professor Gorr. Crusader Afanen from the Pale Reavers and even Sayeh was here, standing a little solitary on the side.

“Are you ready, Commander?”, Trahearne asked him and Sgileas nodded.

“We've never been more ready, Trahearne.”, Sgileas nodded. “Let's go.”

They made their way through the tunnel together and Sgileas looked back only once to see that the Pact was cheering after them. Trahearne was tense, the anticipation clear in his features, and Sgileas felt a similar nervousness inside him.

“This is it, Sgileas, the source of Orr, the font of its magic — the water from which this land draws life! Our scouts reported an immense artesian well at the center of this cavern. The waters run beneath the city of Arah, and from there to every corner of the nation. If we can purify this heart-well, then the magic will spread as the water flows, carrying our cleansing ritual throughout Orr. The heartbeat of the land is weak and thready, but I can hear it.” The firstborn spoke with excitement and Sgilead could not blame him.

“Your Wyld Hunt will be completed.”, Sgileas noted with a smile.

“I have shirked it for so long.”, Trahearne sighed, their steps echoing and patting on the wet ground. “All my life I was running from it, spent it in the hope that a solution would present itself...until I realized that I was the solution all along, and that I needed you here with me.”

Sgileas chuckled lightly with no derision. “We fight as one.”

“We fight as one.”, Trahearne agreed with a nod.

When they entered the large cave Sgileas saw one of Zhaitan's Eyes turning toward them standing right in the middle of a large well that was an epitome of the beauty Orr had once been. “You are forbidden to be here. Guards, destroy these trespassers!”, the Eye commanded and various Undead appeared and swarmed them.

Side by side they stood and when their Shrouds engulfed them it spread as a large, dark cloud that rose and swallowed everything whole. Amidst the shadows they stood and cut at their enemies with blades made from darkness, and from the ground beneath rose Minions to aid them.

Sgileas felt Trahearne's Shroud reach out to his own and he did not fight it and let it in. For only a brief moment he feared he was being swallowed whole when Trahearne's Shroud overwhelmed him, its power enticing and inebriating, when he realized that it was merging with his own, weaving and entwining, granting him even more power to strike at the guards that guarded the door.

It was only when Sgileas and Trahearne had all but cut down the Guards when the Eye grumbled, “I see you are indeed competent. Guards, let them pass. We wish to view them up close.”

Trahearne cast Sgileas a glance. “It seems we're being invited in. Be on your guard, this will not be a friendly visit.”

They entered the main chamber, their Shrouds long drifted and scattered into the air. Their steps were light, careful and slow as they approached and the Eye gave them a mocking glance. “Still so far away. Are you that afraid? Come closer, we wish to see you more clearly.” They stepped upon the outer ring of the well and the Eye suddenly seemed to recognize them. “Defilers! Poisoners! We see you. We know your foul intent. These waters must remain as they are—and you must die!”

The Eye had once before been a threat, and it was no less so now. Sgileas charged ahead, summoned a weapon at his will from his Shroud and let the darkness engulf him once more. He struck at the Eye and it turned away, the dark blade clattering against the exoskeleton that enveloped it before it flew out of reach.

“I can see into your very soul... “, the Eye narrowed and glared at Sgileas. “I see in your heart that you have lost someone to Zhaitan. Someone named...Forgal. He is waiting for you now, beneath the dragon's wings.”

“The dragon will torture us no longer.”, Sgileas growled and cut at the creature once more, but it spun of his way.

“All the death around you. All those who have gone before you. Come to Zhaitan, and find everything you have lost. You can be with them again.”

The Eye was only trying to lure him out, to have him make a mistake and he glared. “Those that died are not lost for us.”, Sgileas said. “They are with us, in every breath, in every strike of our blades. Perhaps _you_ will _see_ once we strike you down.”

The Eye growled lowly and charged at Sgileas and he made his Shroud rise, lifted his dark scythe into the air and blocked the body with the blade. The exoskeleton moved behind the Eye like a sharp tail and Sgileas ducked beneath, stood his ground and pushed against the Eye, but the struggle was over when Trahearne pierced it with Caladbolg.

The blade glowed brightly when it struck through the Eye and the creature screeched loudly. “What's happening to me... Your sword! Why does it gleam so brightly? Ahhhhh!”

When Trahearne pulled Caladbolg free the creature was engulfed in light, seemed to lift into the air and transformed, silver linings and strings twisting and entwining, forming the figure of a ghost.

“Ah...”, the ghost made when it landed on the well, the waters moving softly around them. “... My own hand...my own form. My mind is no longer controlled by the dragon's curse. Praise the gods, I am free! Thank you, brave heroes. Whatever wind guided you to this place, I bless that gale. My name is Reza, and I was the last king of Orr.”, the ghost bowed to them. When the dragon rose, it plundered the royal tomb at Azabe Qabar and used the bodies of my family to create its most heinous servitors—the Eyes of Zhaitan.”

“The other Eyes...those were the kings and queens of Orr?”, Sgileas asked disbelievingly.

“Yes. We were chained to the dragon, corrupted into monsters that bore Zhaitan's vision and carried out its will. One by one, you have freed us.” The ghost smiled at him. “I, the most powerful of all, was placed here to guard the source of Orr‘s magic. Yet, you have found a way. I am deeply grateful. For this service, I grant you an ancient honor: you shall carry the title "Champion of Orr" from this day forward. Remember us as we once were. Cleanse this land. Restore what has been stolen. Confront Zhaitan's power, and give Orr a new beginning.”

“As you say, King Reza.”, Trahearne bowed. “It's time to wash away the corruption that dishonors this land. Rest in peace; we won't fail you.”

The ghost nodded toward them and rose into the air and drenched everything in a blinding light before it faded and no trace of the ghost was anywhere to be seen.

Trahearne moved solemnly toward the middle of the well and stared down at the dark waters under his feet. He took Caladbolg and rammed it into the very center before he lifted and looked at Sgileas who had joined him. “Here, at the end, I am glad that it's just you and me. We will cleanse Orr together—as we were meant to do.”

Goosebumps prickled on Sgileas skin and he moved in, took Trahearne's hand and placed a soft kiss on his lips, sealing all they had done, all they had, and all future battles with a promise: “Together.”, Sgileas whispered against his lips. “I'll protect you. I won't fail you.”

Trahearne nodded and gulped. “Thank you, Sgileas.”, the firstborn murmured. “For everything.”

Sgileas nodded and smiled and slowly Trahearne brought his attention to Caladbolg and closed his eyes, lifted his hands and began to channel.

When Sgileas turned they stood back to back and he gripped his sword tightly. From the waters around them rose undead and risen, crawling up toward them and spattering through the water.

The power from Trahearne behind him engulfed him, but he dared not tap it. With swings of his sword alone he cut them down, one after another. They came from the cave, from crevices, crawled from the earth beneath, and in between all Sgileas heard the dragon roar in fear, making the foundation of the well tremble.

The seconds stretched into minutes, wave after wave pushed against him and Sgileas held them back ferociously, cut at any enemy that dared approach and noticed his body was growing hot steadily, that his breath was starting to come in labored and short inhales.

He felt the tremor in Trahearne's Shroud, the power fluctuating when the firstborn became deterred and Sgileas encouraged him, “Don't stop now, Trahearne.”, he panted. “We can do this.”

Even though Sgileas had not turned around, was too occupied with the Risen that tried to approach Trahearne and cutting them down, he noticed that Trahearne took strength form his words, took hope and faith, and once more Sgileas felt their Shrouds connect.

It was a feeling of tranquility, of solace and belonging. A feeling of home and where his heart, his mind, his body and soul belonged.

His Shroud protected him and a blade passed through him, his dark scythe cut through a risen group that had advanced. He spun it over his head and the momentum tore the blade right through them and he shoved a Risen back with a growl and heard footsteps in the distance, saw Pact members rushing into the Central chamber. “The line's broken. We're being overwhelmed. Fall back!”, a Crusader yelled. “Protect Marshal Trahearne at all costs!”

As they fell back they cut down the Risen that had swarmed the chamber and managed to create a defensive line on the outer rim of the well, protecting both Sgileas and Trahearne from any approaching Risen.

He saw them there, fighting the enemy relentlessly, all his allies, his friends, the people of Tyria that fought against the dragon so that in the end, they could all be free. And he stood with his back against Trahearne, heaving and panting, sword gripped tightly, the Shroud dancing over his skin.

If they should fall he was the last line. And Zhaitan might break them today, but they would hold on until Trahearne had succeeded. From the tunnels swarmed even more, one monstrosity after another, abomination and hylek and quaggan, all minions of Zhaitan drove against them and yet they stood and held their ground.

The ground pulsed beneath Sgileas feet and then he felt it vibrating, shacking and trembling. It rumbled and shook, there was a loud cracking noise and then he felt the magic flowing from behind him and beneath him, all around him.

It rose like a wave, the breath of spring, and beneath Sgileas feet he saw a large plant twine and grow toward the edges, clinging on to the stone for dear life. The soul of Orr, it's heart, beating and pulsing and hanging on, tearing away at the ruins that encased it.

A gleam sparkled in the water and flooded everything in a beaming, blinding light that grew until it engulfed everything. It was warm and full of life and he was reminded of _home_.

When the light faded so did the sounds. The Risen had fallen and the chamber filled with a sparkling light that glittered in the air, and growing from the walls were racking plants that clung and tore at the stone, cracking it with the gentle force of growth.

Sgileas smiled and turned around – just in time to catch Trahearne in his arms when the firstborn fell. The sword clattered to the ground into the water and he held him close to his chest and sunk to his knees, saw how labored Trahearne's breath was and his heart spiked in his chest in worry.

“Trahearne.”, Sgileas urged and cupped Trahearne's cheek, made him meet his eyes.

“It's done.”, Trahearne said as if he was in a trance, his voice but a whisper. “I can feel the waters beginning to radiate with the energy of Caladbolg, flowing everywhere the water touches.” Trahearne looked utterly exhausted and tattered, his eyelids weary. The firstborn made a feeble attempt to lift himself up and sunk down into Sgileas embrace once more with a sigh.

“Are you alright?”, Sgileas asked worriedly.

“The ritual has taken a great deal out of me, but I will live.”, Trahearne murmured in a daze.

“You did it.”, Sgileas whispered and pulled Trahearne closer. “You've done it.”

“We did.”, Trahearne corrected weakly. Behind him Sgileas could hear footsteps approaching, water spattering and saw a figure only from the corner of his eyes.

“Is the Marshal alright?”, someone asked and Sgileas looked up, noticed that it was Laranthir of the Wild.

“Yes.”, Sgileas replied. “He's fine, just exhausted.”

“Thank the Pale Mother.”, Laranthir smiled. “We have done it. The corruption is ceasing, I can feel it. Everyone can.”

Trahearne made another attempt to lift himself and Sgileas helped him stand, noticed how the firstborn swayed just slightly. Then Trahearne took a deep breath and lifted his head. Through the worry Sgileas had barely noticed, but now that Trahearne stood the victorious cheers of the Pact was all around them, almost deafeningly loud.

They had won yet another fight. One that would change the tide of this war. There was only one task left for them. Trahearne held on to Sgileas arm for support. “It will take time for this purification to spread through Orr.”, Trahearne murmured.

“When Zhaitan is dead we have all the time in the world.”, Sgileas soothed. “Your Wyld Hunt is over. You have succeeded.”

Trahearne gave him a strange look, a mixture of thoughtfulness and melancholy. “It has been a part of me since I took my first steps.”, he murmured. When he glanced around over the Pact he slowly smiled. “It's time I redefine myself. A rare and unique challenge...but I have the Pact to keep me busy.” There was a short pause and then their eyes met. “Thank you, for all you've done.”

“I am not done yet.”, Sgileas smiled and pulled Trahearne closer. “Once I have completed my Wyld Hunt this battle will be truly won – and Tyria will be safe.”

“To kill Zhaitan.”, Trahearne sighed. “You will have to face the dragon itself.” It sounded as though this was the first time that Trahearne had realized what that meant and his fingers clutched Sgileas harder.

“Don't worry.”, Sgileas leaned forward and their foreheads touched gently. Trahearne breathed in his scent, found strength and believe in the younger sylvari's presence where his Wyld Hunt used to be – a compelling force that had lead him through his life every step of the way.

And now he had Sgileas. The guiding light in the darkness, and he would have to face Zhaitan face to face. “I am afraid.”, Trahearne admitted. “Not for me, but for you.”

Sgileas gently held Trahearne's arms and as they stood together they drank in each other's presence, the noises around them faded and died. “I will be fine.”, Sgileas whispered. “Have faith in me.”

“I do.”, Trahearne whispered and the seconds stretched into a tranquil eternity, their affection transcending the boundaries of mind and body. It was a connection of two souls that had found one another and were made to complete each other, one piece of the heart that had been missing. “I love you.”

Sgileas breathed it in; the scent of flowers and nature blooming, Trahearne's scent that reminded him of home, the very moment that he heard the sweet words his heart longed to hear. “Me too.”, Sgileas hushed. “Me too.”

 

Everything in Fort Trinity was buzzing with preparations for their final assault. Sgileas had never seen so man people running around in one place, and the chatter was almost unbearable.

There were those that were eager, those that were terrified, and those in between. Sgileas himself felt a mixture of both himself. He was eager to finish his Wyld Hunt – and feared what would happen if he failed.

The eyes of the Pact seemed to be solely on him now as if the whole world knew that it was his Wyld Hunt that remained, that its completion meant their salvation. They were all so expectant of him and regarded him with awe and reverie as though he had somehow ascended beyond what he was before, even though nothing had changed.

“Commander.” Vivian tore away from a group of researchers and squeezed through a group of norn toward him. She was positively beaming at him.

“Vivian.”, he greeted blandly.

“I have heard you and Trahearne managed to begin the process that will cleanse Zhaitan's corruption. Everyone is talking about it.” Her eyes gleamed. “I wish I could have been there.”

 _You would have done no good_ , Sgileas thought but bit it back. “It will take time for the corruption to be cleansed completely, but with Zhaitan's death we are sure to accelerate the process.”

“You are confident, aren't you?”, she grinned.

“I imagine I would not be standing here if I were not.”, he dead-panned and she laughed as though he had made the most incredible joke.

“Are you preparing for your battle then? I imagine you must be nervous, even being...you.”

“My stretching routine before battle is legendary.”, Sgileas smiled. “ _and_ a secret, naturally.”

She laughed and a blush crept into her lips and slowly her features turned shy. “Look, I was wondering if...”, She sighed and took deep breath. “If perhaps you would want to spend this evening with me. And perhaps the night.”

Sgileas did not have to consider her offer, but he paused as not to insult her in any way. “I am already seeing someone.”, he told her.

She blushed a dark crimson. “Is it true then?”, she asked. “That you and the Marshal...”

“Yes.”, Sgileas answered and she gulped.

“I...I see. I am sorry I imposed. I wish you good luck on your mission tomorrow.” she bowed her head and disappeared among the masses, and Sgileas shook his head with a smile. That had taken quite a while to get out, had it not? How many in the Pact knew about him and Trahearne? Surely more had already seen that they were together; they barely tried to hide it.

Sgileas made his way toward a more quiet part of the pier and thought about retreating to his quarters when he saw Sayeh, her eyes sparkling in the shadows. She would have been easy to miss – if Sgileas had not already known and worked with her before.

“Come to me. We must discuss.”, she said imperiously and Sgileas rolled his eyes.

“Bossy.”

She chuckled. “So we meet again. If I didn't know better, I might think you were the hunter and I the prey.”

“Actually I am looking for Trahearne.”, Sgileas glanced around once more, but of course Trahearne would not be among the courtyard or even the piers. It was way too loud and lively.

“The Marshal is also a solitary creature. He avoids the attention of others, but not mine. You'll find him near the airship docks.”

“Thank you.”, Sgileas nodded toward her. “May your steps be relentless.”

She nodded in return and blend into the shadows and as he turned she was gone. It was a handy ability, and a little unnerving. The sun was setting and the light waning and Sgileas set out to find Trahearne.

Surely enough he found Trahearne standing alone near the airship docks and looked at Sgileas in surprise when he approached. “Sgileas.” The smile on his lips was all the greeting Sgileas needed.

“I see you are better.”, Sgileas commented and Trahearne nodded.

“My strength is slowly returning... But it is not yet restored. It has been quite a while since I have been sapped of my strength like this.”

“Will you be able to come with me tomorrow?”, Sgileas asked, knew that Trahearne wanted to be there because it was the last and final fight, the final stage of everything they had been working toward.

Trahearne averted his eyes. “I...I am afraid not.”

“Don't beat yourself down.”, Sgileas soothed. “I'll handle it.” Trahearne entwined his fingers with his.

“I want to be with you as you have been with me.”, Trahearne sighed. “Yet I would only pose a liability in the battle to come, and I would rather not exploit your worry. You must concentrate all your strength on defeating Zhaitan.”

“You exploit nothing from me, Trahearne.”, Sgileas smiled. “I give it all willingly and freely, and you give me strength.”

Trahearne studied him for a moment. “I am overwhelmed anew every time at the extend of your feelings.”, the firstborn murmured. “It would kill me to loose you.”

A sharp pain pierced Sgileas chest and he held Trahearne's hand tighter. “That won't happen.”, Sgileas vowed. “I'll return to you, and we will lead the Pact against more victories, against all the other Elder Dragons.”

“If that is the future awaiting us I will gladly work toward it.”, Trahearne promised.

“Good.”, Sgileas smiled and leaned forward to capture Trahearne's lips in a burning kiss. The water glittered in a red light as the sun began to set and even though it was a beautiful sight to behold, the firstborn in his arms kissing his lips was even more so.

Trahearne sighed and pulled back, eyes glazed when they met Sgileas' own. The hands on Sgileas back suddenly seemed sharper, harder, tighter and he tried to hold Trahearne's gaze, found it hard to do so without hungrily kissing the firstborn senseless.

This was the night of celebration, the night before the final battle. They had time, they had this night, and they could make it their own. Sgileas gulped and slowly opened his mouth, was not sure how to ask,“Trahearne, I was wondering...if you want to...”

“Spend the night with me.”, Trahearne interrupted before he could finish and a bare, ravaging heat boiled in Sgileas core. He inhaled sharply and groaned before he kissed Trahearne with a bruising, open-mouthed kiss. Trahearne met him with equal force, pulled at him to squeeze them together.

The heat overtook his body, burned beneath his skin and along his spine and he had to force himself to pull apart or he would take Trahearne right here. Their eyes were full of carnal desire, hot and eager breaths rushing over burning skin and Trahearne took his hand, pulled him all the way back, through the masses and the courtyard, and even though some called out to them they ignored them all without so much as casting a glance.

They managed to get to Trahearne's door, but everything after was a blur. The loud bang of the metal clicking into the lock, the rustling of Sgileas robe as he pulled it over his head, the heavy breaths when Trahearne's hands roamed over his chest, the surprised gasp when Sgileas lips captured Trahearne's.

Sgileas hands roamed over Trahearne's body and ripped at his armor, tore if free from his skin and drank in the sight, pulled the firstborn tightly against him to feel skin on skin, to finally feel the heat of another body against his own. He had yearned to feel Trahearne against him, naked and bare for so long.

With a satisfied sigh Sgileas leaned his head down and bit into Trahearne's neck and a moan escaped the firstborn and the body in his arms shuddered, the neck stretched and Sgileas groaned, wanted to connect, to feel, wanted more and he tore the part of Trahearne's light armor that made up his pants away, heard them flutter to the floor somewhere in the darkness.

Deft hands worked on his belt and he heard it click, the pressure around his abdomen loosening slightly before he pushed Trahearne back, lips locked, step for step until the firstborns knees met the bed and Trahearne pulled imperiously at his trousers and they fell to the floor, leaving him completely naked.

Without another moment of hesitation Sgileas pushed Trahearne back, held his back and eased his fall, landed atop of him with a huff that was quickly redeemed with a scorching kiss. Their bodies touched and Sgileas felt Trahearne's hardness press into his pelvis and his own press down into Trahearne's abdomen.

The heat was incredible and Sgileas felt inebriated, pushed his body down to feel every last bit of Trahearne's skin, felt the firstborn arch up against him.

When Trahearne lifted his pelvis and squeezed their lengths together Sgileas moaned and gasped, the pressure delicious and exquisite. With a roll of his own hips he moved against Trahearne and earned a breathless gasp.

A hand on the small of his back pushed him down and he obliged, saw that Trahearne had closed his eyes and was loosing himself in it, and Sgileas watched with heavy lidded eyes, rolled his hips down and watched the shudders ripple over Trahearne's skin, the lips parted to make the most beautiful and alluring noises he had ever heard.

He looked close and the desire was overwhelming, Sgileas wanted him to come, to finish and he leaned down, chest against chest, rolled his hips and increased the pressure, the heat engulfed him, his mind was barely a sliver in his awareness when Trahearne moaned louder and louder, and Sgileas moved harder, faster, saw that Trahearne was so entirely lost because of him that the firstborn abandoned all senses.

The sight alone tore at Sgileas discipline and he groaned open-mouthed against Trahearne's lips, the heat of his length pressing harshly against him and his head began to swim when suddenly he heard his name and he blinked down at Trahearne through the haze of his lust.

“Sgileas, have mercy.”, Trahearne panted and Sgileas felt so hot he thought he might evaporate. He leaned forward and rested his forehead against Trahearne, realized that he had gone too fast and willed his hips to be still even though his body wanted nothing more than continue to move. He was tingling all over from the imperious desire.

“You're so...”, Sgileas was searching for the right words, but could not find them in his murky brain. “I want you so bad.”, he finally brought out breathlessly.

“Me too.”, Trahearne whispered and the firstborns hands pressed into his hips. “But we have all night. There is no need to rush.”

Sgileas pulled away and nodded. “Slow.”, he murmured and gulped. “Alright.” He was not sure how slow worked, how it ever did – his body was _screaming_ at him that it wanted to feel, to touch, to continue, and Trahearne must have noticed his hesitation and the struggle.

“Show me.”, Trahearne said. “Show me your Shroud.”

Sgileas heart beat almost painfully fast in his chest. Revealing his powers so close to Trahearne, his second skin, the shadows that were tied to his very existence... He panted and slowly coaxed the power free. The darkness oozed from his skin like a dark mist that almost made no difference in the darkness of the room, safe for the fact that it partially hid his form and glowing pattern.

Trahearne's breath hitched when he felt it reach out to him even though it was nothing tangible, nothing Trahearne could possibly hold on to or reach out to, and yet he felt the Shroud lingering in the air, the power dripping onto his skin thickly. It felt invigorating and alluring, a warm, soft static that tingled and lulled his senses and understood what Sgileas had meant.

But what brought Trahearne's heart into a near frenzy was not just the feeling of the Shroud itself. It was the way Sgileas looked, the purple glow gleaming beneath the shadows, eyes coveting and glowing dangerously and soliciting to continue.

A groan broke from Trahearne's lips at the sight. “Kiss me.”, he whispered, a mixture of an order and supplication and Sgileas leaned down and hungrily captured his lips and when he did he brought the full force of the Shroud with him and engulfed Trahearne whole.

Sgileas subdued a moan that threatened to tear from Trahearne's mouth with a tilt of his head and a harsh press of his lips, Trahearne's hands on his side loose and useless. It was so tempting to lean his pelvis down again, to rut their two lengths together and create the pressure both their bodies craved, but Sgileas managed to remind himself that he wanted to take it slow – and that they were in no rush.

He pulled away slightly and leaned down, planted soft kisses on Trahearne's neck, gently bit the skin and elicited a noise from Trahearne's mouth that made his body sing in appreciation.

The hands on his hips wandered to the small of his back and down toward his posterior, grasped both sides tightly and pulled Sgileas closer a bit more. For that Sgileas bit a little harder and Trahearne's breath hitched once more.

The heat of their bodies pressed together made Sgileas body eager and demanding to explore and to taste the skin beneath him and he licked over the bitten skin, felt the hand on his ass move and felt it draw closer toward the cleft, his head suddenly realizing what Trahearne intended.

He stilled when he felt the digit probe his entrance and his own breath caught in his chest and Trahearne's breath washed over his neck when the firstborn asked, “Is that alright?”

Sgileas gave a faint nod of his head and gasped when the digit sunk in. It was a strange feeling, such an intrusion. He had never before felt such a thing – how could he, after all? - and all that he knew was from the knowledge of the Dream which, right now, he found had been greatly lacking.

The finger stretched him open, sunk deeper into him only slowly, inching forward and probing forward. He tried to regain control of his breath, his heart, his brain, anything, but everything seemed to slip from the grasp of his control. The intrusion was so overwhelming that everything faded and Sgileas made a surprised noise when he felt Trahearne's palm against him, a signal that the finger was fully inside.

It felt so very strange that Sgileas could not discern if he liked it or not when he felt the finger inside him carefully curl against his inside and a spike of pleasure shot up from his spine, and he gripped the sheets beside Trahearne's head tightly.

“Look at me.”, Trahearne whispered and Sgileas had not noticed he had closed his eyes, opened them forcefully and noticed that Trahearne looked into his eyes with a mixture of wonder, captivation and assessment. The firstborn was breathing faster than normal, but not quite as labored as Sgileas. “How is that?”

Trahearne moved the finger inside him once more, flexed it against the muscles inside and Sgileas whole body answered for him with a shudder and he moaned. He forced himself to look at Trahearne when he answered, “Good. It's a little weird...but in a good way.”

Trahearne nodded slowly and Sgileas saw the pattern glow lighter when the firstborn gulped. “I will add another.”

Sgileas nodded and felt the digit retreating, leaving him with an empty feeling and the need to have something inside him again. Was that how things started? With fingers and then, eventually -

The two fingers pushed in gently and slowly and Sgileas arms trembled, his whole body quivered when he began to imagine that it was Trahearne's length inside of him instead. The fingers stopped and Sgileas whimpered, tried to move his pelvis when he realized that Trahearne was studying him carefully, that the firstborn was concerned. “Are you alright?”, Trahearne asked and Sgileas nodded feverishly.

“Yes. Please don't stop.”

Trahearne made a long exhale to collect himself and continued, felt the body that was still above him surrendering to his advance. Sgileas knees were quivering against Trahearne's thighs, his arms trembling at the effort it took to concentrate on holding himself up.

The fingers sunk into the tight and hot flesh, inch for inch until Trahearne's hand rested against Sgileas once against and the younger sylvari above him groaned. He began to move his pelvis and his body, rocking against the digits and impaled himself deeper on them and made a noise that made Trahearne shudder and heat boil in his core.

Slowly he pulled them out and pushed them in, found a gentle and slow rhythm and Sgileas' body answered with pushes of his own, tilting his pelvis to meet him, hot breath washing over Trahearne's skin. The rhythm quickened – whether it was because Sgileas moved more harshly or Trahearne lost some of his patience to the carnal lust tearing at his mind was unclear.

Sgileas groaned, could not believe that after the initial stretch, after that slight burn of the second finger all the discomfort was melting away into a pool of tight and hot pleasure that engulfed his insides. When his thoughts drifted toward what a third would do, or even what Trahearne's length might do in the fingers' place his arousal throbbed with a harsh need that was almost painful.

“One more.”, Sgileas panted and Trahearne groaned.

“Easy.”, the firstborn soothed, both himself and the younger sylvari, but Sgileas' eyes were so demanding with their heated gaze alone that Sgileas would not have required to speak, but he did,

“I want to know.”, Sgileas said. “I want you inside...I want to know.”

Trahearne's stomach flipped, the heat tore at his core and for a second his head swam with an overwhelming desire to flip them around, to push Sgileas down and push into him, but he managed to fight it back.

The third finger came, was uncomfortable for just a few brief seconds until Sgileas relaxed. The flesh was tight around Trahearne's fingers and he curled them inside, pushed them deeper, pulled them out and thrust them inside teasingly, progressing only slowly, just because he wanted to see what it did.

Sgileas above him panted heavily, moans washing from his lips and the sylvari shuddered, the glow of his pattern almost furious in the dark. The Shroud had long since dissipated, no control or concentration left to call it forth, and Trahearne held himself at bay for another minute until his arousal strained so much he thought he would burst.

When he pulled his fingers free Sgileas whimpered – a sound that did not quite befit the sylvari, and yet that made it all the more alluring. Trahearne thought it in his head when he grasped Sgileas hips and noticed the shift of the younger sylvari's body, lifting up his upper body into the air, looking down at Trahearne with a smoldering lust that enraptured him.

Sgileas lifted his pelvis slightly and for a brief second Trahearne thought he would move off, but Sgileas gripped his arousal and he made a surprised noise mixed with a groan. He had no air to protest when Sgileas positioned himself and rose over him, staring down at Trahearne's erection as he did, before he slowly lifted his eyes.

When he sunk down Trahearne could do nothing but place his hands on Sgileas hips and hold on to them as the tightness and heat engulfed him and the pleasure shot up his spine into his brain.

Sgileas sunk lower and lower, savored every inch he gained, felt it filling him up and stretching him even more than the fingers had. As he sunk down he kept his eyes locked with Trahearne's and when his brain suddenly registered that it was Trahearne's length gliding deeper inside him, that they were connected at last, Sgileas gave a satisfied groan.

Trahearne's hips jerked upwards a little when Sgileas was flush against him and he could feel it deep inside him, hot and pulsing, and even the smallest movement registered on his insides. “Are you alright?”, Trahearne all but whispered through his huffs.

“Trahearne.”, Sgileas panted, his mind swimming. He could not hold on to his sanity much longer, wanted to feel the pleasure the length inside Trahearne teased it could give. “Fuck me.”

Trahearne's mind went blank and his pelvis snapped upward, gripped Sgileas hips tightly and pulled him down against him. It was a harsh, spiked thrust and Sgileas saw stars when it reached even deeper, touched something deep within him that turned all the molten heat in his core into liquid.

The next thrust came, just as harshly as the first, and another, and another until Sgileas could not be bothered to count. He leaned back, placed his hands down onto Trahearne's thigh to have something to hold on to and tried to rise from his position slightly, to lift and create more friction in time with Trahearne's trusts, and when he finally managed to find a pace that was rhythmic with the firstborn's own his body was shivering like a leaf and the sound tore from his throat unbid – yet he was not ashamed.

Trahearne pushed into him, felt Sgileas body sinking down on him and rising up again, the friction hot and tight, his fingers digging into Sgileas skin as he tried to hold on and ground himself, but if this punishing pace continued he would not last much longer. He could already feel the orgasm building up, constricting in his gut and cutting sharp like and edge.

“Ah...”, Trahearne made, “Sgileas, slow down.”, he begged.

Sgileas barely heard over his own moans and looked down at Trahearne, saw his features contorted in pleasure. Trahearne looked so close and tense and heat spiked through Sgileas body.

He did not want to stop, even though he felt Trahearne's hand on his hips pulling him down, forcing the amplitude of his movement to decrease. In a rush of need Sgileas grabbed Trahearne's wrists and pulled them from his hips, held them in a steady grip and initiated the movement from his knees, rose and let himself glide down again.

“By the Pale Tree.”, Trahearne cursed breathlessly and panted, “Sgileas, Please, I am going to-”

Inside him. Trahearne was going to come inside him.

The thought burned every consciousness in Sgileas brain away and he ruthlessly continued with his punishing pace, the sounds he made obscene and prurient.

Trahearne tensed entirely, wound up like a spring, held himself on the edge and his breath hitched, he would fall any second now but he couldn't, did not want to -

It all happened in a blur of movements. Trahearne's Shroud broke free, gave him the edge over Sgileas hold and with a growl that resounded in an echo around the small chamber Trahearne gripped Sgileas waist and turned them around.

Sgileas could only groan when he felt the rush of adrenaline, the press of the mattress into his back and then all of a sudden Trahearne was over him and pushed into him, lifted his legs high into the air.

A cry tore from Sgileas throat and as he inhaled the magic of the Shroud engulfed his mind and his senses, overwhelmed him and Trahearne thrust into him harshly, pushed so deep that Sgileas felt hot, white pleasure in his gut.

“Ah!”, Sgileas cried out, arched up against Trahearne when the firstborn pulled back and thrust forward again with even more force. His mind was white, wiped with every thrust, his body answering on instinct and carnal desire alone and pushed against Trahearne, craved even more, demanded more friction, and with every inhale Trahearne's Shroud clouded his mind even more until he was incoherent with need.

Sgileas almost screamed beneath him when he felt the edge of his orgasm, suddenly so demanding and close that he could not even attempt to hold it back and it washed over him in a rush of waves that made his whole body tremble.

Trahearne pounded into him, felt the shudder underneath him, saw and felt the tension of Sgileas body and his own climax was pulsing and throbbing and he could not hold it back any longer, felt that he would explode and implode at the same time if he did and forced another few strong thrusts from his hips against Sgileas when the orgasm washed over him and made him see stars.

Sgileas vision swam, a blur of embers and darkness, his body felt as though it was not attached to his brain at all. His head was foggy and the thoughts slipped from his grasps like a hand full of air. Only ever so slowly could he make use of what he heard, and saw, and _felt_.

He felt hot. Hot and content. A soft shiver tingled over his skin when he felt hot breath against his neck and a gentle pair of lips met his skin there, planted them there lightly and feathery.

A content sigh escaped him and he lifted his arms, felt Trahearne's body over him still and pulled the firstborn down against him. Trahearne obliged and the heat of the bodies engulfed them, and Sgileas could feel it still, deep inside him, along with Trahearne's warm spent that painted his insides.

He wanted nothing more than to sink into the sheets at the feeling, and instead settled for a low groan. Trahearne lifted slightly and their eyes met for only a few seconds before Trahearne leaned down and kissed him softly, and Sgileas met him languidly.

The kiss was chaste in the afterglow and Sgileas wanted it to last, but the still erratic beating of his heart demanded more air from his lungs and he had to pull away reluctantly. The look in Trahearne's eyes was content, tender, cherishing.

“That was amazing.”, Sgileas smiled up at him.

“I...got carried away, at the end.”, Trahearne murmured apologetically.

“Me too.”, Sgileas grinned. It was after all his fault that Trahearne had snapped – not that he was going to apologize for it.

Trahearne smiled, shook his head and leaned down, nibbled at Sgileas neck. “You minx.”, the firstborn jested against the skin.

Sgileas breathing had calmed down enough and he turned Trahearne's head with the palm of his hand, angled his own head sideways and kissed Trahearne on his mouth longingly and tenderly.

Trahearne sighed against his lips, a soft brush of air rushing over his skin and he smiled into the kiss, lips moving languidly over one another for what felt like forever. When they finally did break apart the bliss was almost palpable and Trahearne pulled him into a tight embrace that Sgileas mirrored.

They rested atop one another long enough that Sgileas noticed his eyes drifting shut, that he became sleepy and drowsy and Trahearne slipped from him and he made a surprised noise, but Trahearne was right there the next second to pull him closer into his arms, his other arm searching for the blanket and pulling it over the two of them, tugging it neatly beneath Sgileas.

Sgileas barely registered and nuzzled against Trahearne and drifted to sleep with a smile on his lips – and Trahearne brushed a hand through the foliage atop his head lovingly and followed soon after.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty! There are two more chapters after this; Zhaitan still needs to die after all, and there will be a short Epilogue. Not much longer now! You have almost done it! :D


	16. Glass turned to Stone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holla there! Thank you for you patience. Finally we get to see how Zhaitan dies - and that I am a little shit. I could not hold it back and brought in some more Tragedy, just so that fight would not feel quite so anti-climatic. Please don't hate me. Now...enjoy! :3

Sgileas cut through the minion that appeared on the deck, gave a grunt of distaste as its insides splattered onto the metallic front of the ship. The sky was filled with the sounds of canons firing, wings flapping and dragons roaring – minions of Zhaitan that were swarming in the sky all around them, and when another approached too close they shot it down with the canons.

The whole day had started off perfectly until Sgileas had met the members of Destiny's Edge, reunited by Caithe at last, at Arah and due to a mechanism breaking down they had to leave the human guardian behind to fend for himself against an approaching risen army.

The human was probably long dead and he could see it in the faces of the members of Destiny's Edge that neither of them found any joy in it. Another death that Zhaitan had demanded – and that even though they were so close to the end.

Sgileas stumbled forwards when suddenly a dragon appeared and rammed the ships side, made the construction wheeze with a metallic screech and the railing under his fingers trembled, the depth beyond it looming in front of him.

Eir was knocking in her arrows into her bow and shot at the dragon with surprising accuracy, whilst the others manned the canons and began to batter away at the dragon. The dragon retreated with a defiant cry into the thick, swirling mist that was the magic of Zhaitan, lingering in the air all around them.

“Commander, we have been requested to aid an assault on Arah. The passage is blocked by a Mouth and they -”

“Get us there.”, Sgileas ordered curtly. If it was already on his way he would and could deal with it so that once reinforcements arrived they could easily push into the great city and push back all the Risen and minions of Zhaitan – once and for all.

When the platform came into view Sgileas saw the Mouth stalking the large platform, and Destiny's Edge joined behind him to take it out. “Anything we need to look out for?”, Eir asked as they jumped from the ship down toward the platform.

“The Mouth can suck you in if you are not careful.”, Sgileas warned, remembered the Pact Soldier that had been drawn in and caught between the sharp teeth. The cry of pain when the Mouth had snapped the soldier in two rang in his ears still. “Other than that: Do not get hit.”

Caithe chuckled. “Easier said than done, Commander.”

“I imagine you'll have no trouble.”, Sgileas shrugged.

It was as he had said, and whenever the Mouth tried to pull someone in they managed to interrupt it and surely – and in record time – they felled the creature. The chopper behind them approached and another ship appeared – the reinforcements that would swarm the Arah gate just ahead.

There were so many angles to this assault. Even if Sgileas failed they would have dealt a great blow to Zhaitan.  _And given him minions to take revenge_ , a part of his brain supplied. 

It was suddenly eerily quiet, the mist thicker here, almost as if protecting its creator from view. Were they that close already? Sgileas felt his skin prickle.

And then at the sides, barely dark silhouetted against the white of mist, Sgileas saw massive giants standing, and one of them was lifting something into the air. “Shields!”, he cried, but the rock landed against the metallic rear with a loud crunching noise. The ship turned slightly to the side but held its course, and the other projectiles were reflected with the shields finally up and in place.

The giants faltered against their own weaponry and fell down toward the ground, wherever it was. The sound was distant like thunder and rolled through the air just the same, and Sgileas heart was beating faster.

The anticipation was slowly killing him. He wanted to get this over and done with, not to continue with this. Where was Zhaitan? Why had it not shown itself? The ship gained height once more, revealing the various battles that still raged in the skies.

Other airships were struggling with the dragons, and then, all of a sudden one came rushing from beneath and shot up into the sky above Sgileas head. Grimly he aimed the canon – and fired.

  
  


Trahearne was back in Fort Trinity, sitting in the small chamber where the other leading parties had assembled. They all stood over their communication devices, and everyone was yelling and bringing out orders, while Trahearne supervised it all.

So far all the avenues for the assault were in place, except for the push at the front gates of Arah. The Risen there had overwhelmed the forces and pushed the Pact back and they had barely managed to get Logan, the human guardian, out alive with help from the just-in-time repaired ship:  _The Glory of Tyria_ . 

It was the largest of all the ships, and by far the most damaging. Trahearne was not a mechanic nor a scientist, but Zojja had assured him that its generator was a thing of her own design, and she swore that it would prove invaluable. And so they had taken the ship as soon as the mechanics had given the green light, and now, just as the others, she was sailing toward their destination.

Zhaitan.

“Marshal, the _Stringer_ is damaged.” Trahearne's head lifted toward the male human. It was the ship Sgileas had boarded and his heart sank.

“How badly?”

“It will fall soon. We lost contact with them just seconds ago.”

“How far away is _The Glory of Tyria_?”

“Not far. Should we intercept?”

“Yes.”, Trahearne ordered and willed his heart to calm down. It would be fine – it had to be.

  
  


“Another ship coming in! And it's a huge one!”, Zojja pointed.

Captain Vandem roared, “Abandon ship! Get to the larger vessel!”

The larger ship was no other than the _Glory of Tyria_ , Sgileas realized and they all ran toward the edge and jumped below. His leg gave a painful spike when he landed, but other than that the fall had done nothing to impair him.

When he lifted his eyes he could see the airship slowly drifting toward the side, drawing diagonally toward high cliffs where it shattered and clashed into splinters and an explosion ruptured through the air that rippled even toward where they were standing.

“Come on, you laggards! We don't have all day!”, a familiar voice said and Sgileas saw the human guardian approach, the one who had chosen to stay behind.

“Logan!”, Rytlock exclaimed. “You're alive!”

“You think I was going to let you go up against Zhaitan alone?”, Logan grinned.

“Logan, I am delighted to see you are well. I thought....”, Caithe murmured, but did not finish.

“I know. I got out by the skin of my teeth and hopped a lift with this ship. It's a new design.”

The ship was sailing through the skies once more and Sgileas eyes were trained on the sky when Caithe appeared beside him. “I am delighted to have Logan back, but our greatest battle lies ahead.”, she murmured, her eyes filled with a mixture of anticipation and fear. She shared his Wyld Hunt, and her calling must be a great bellow as it was for him.

“We will stop Zhaitan, once and for all.”

“With Destiny's Edge back together and you here, we truly are invincible.” Caithe gave him an earnest smile and it confused him – she had written him that letter in order to reconcile, a notion he had encouraged. He still anticipated derision in her tone, but he found none.

He was about to answer when someone yelled, “Something big is coming!”

“What is that?”, a crew-member asked and then another answered breathlessly,

“That's Zhaitan! Look at the size of that thing!”

Zhaitan looked only ever so faintly like a dragon. It looked more like a floating worm with multiple arms and legs and wings to keep it in the air. Nasty, green glowing eyes were fixed on them as it approached, and its head alone was almost as large as _The Glory of Tyria_.

Sgileas felt it. The pull, the tingling in his fingers and he squinted his eyes and growled. This was the enemy he was to destroy, the dragon that terrorized Tyria's soul and had taken Forgal and other great people's lives. 

The dragon swished by them and the air gusted past them as it did, and just in passing by a large leg crashed into the front of the ship, ripping through the metal as thought the ship was nothing but a mere house of cards.

The whole ship trembled and ached beneath his feet and he heard screams all around, clung to the railing with pale fingers, his eyes trained on the creature that disappeared in the distance and turned to move once more toward them.

“Stand aside. I have this.”, Zojja shoved in between the asura and the console.

“Excuse me?”, the asura sputtered. “This is a mist-cooled tripartate thautmatium energy weapon.”

“Uh-huh.”, Zojja made, her eyes trialing over the console and then snapping back toward the asura. “With a lead tracer array set for draconic energy.”, she dead-panned and snapped, “Who do you think designed it?”

The asura looked utter dumb-founded and stepped aside with raised hands, admitting his defeat.

“I know how to handle this. I won't break it. Much.”

Zhaitan was coming at them now and the frontal assault would tear the ship apart, and them with it. Sgileas belly churned. There had to be something he could do, anything...

  
  


“Zhaitan has been spotted!”, the man cried, fingers growing pale around the microphone in his hand and his eyes trailed toward Trahearne.

“Open Fire.”, Trahearne ordered, felt his gut constrict.

“ _The Glory of Tyria_ is the dragon's current target. They are preparing to fire -” There was small pause and Trahearne had his elbows leaning on the table, hands folded in front of him to tightly it was nearly to the point of pain. “It hit!”, the man exclaimed with a cheer. “We have hit Zhaitan!”

The man glanced around and then they could hear it – Zhaitan's scream. It echoed through the land, the ground, the air, made everything shiver just the slightest.

Trahearne stared ahead and bit the inside of his lip. He wished he could be there, to see it for himself, to be beside Sgileas as the younger sylvari accomplished his Wyld Hunt, but instead he was here, so far away...

He shook the thoughts away. He felt the dismay, but he could do nothing about it now. All he could do was ensure that everything was going according to plan and smoothly – as much as a plan applied at this point.

“Zhaitan was forced from the sky.”, the man informed him. “It is clinging to a mountain near Arah.”

“Continue fire.”, Trahearne ordered. Only a little longer. Just a little longer...

  
  


Sgileas saw the massive Dragon fall from the sky like a stone gliding through the air. It crashed against a enormous mountain and its large claws, arms and legs clung to the rock to keep it from falling, the massive beam of the weapon had torn its lower body apart.

“Open fire!”, came the command and they manned the cannons and slowly _The Glory of Tyria_ drifted toward Zhaitan, close enough so that the canons could deal more devastating damage.

He felt tense as he watched, the dragon roaring and clutching at the rock as its last hope for salvation and life – but Sgileas would not grant it such a thing.

Zhaitan turned its large, gleaming eyes toward them, and if a dragon even possessed the ability to express features, Sgileas was sure right now it was glaring at them. It opened its mouth and roared at them defiantly and loudly, loud enough that the metal beneath Sgileas feet trembled.

_The Glory of Tyria_ drew closer and closer and Sgileas heard the canons firing, saw them land in burst of red and yellow against Zhaitan's skin and the dragon screeched in pain, a wail so loud that Sgileas' ears nearly bled. Zojja was holding her hands over hers.

Sgileas hit the trigger repeatedly, one after another, aimed at the creature's head and then, finally, the claws seemed to loosen from the rock. For a split second Zhaitan floated and then fell down. A cheer rose from the deck and Sgileas watched, only to see that Zhaitan managed to find purchase on a cliff below with a pair of its massive arms, pushed itself upward and jumped into the air.

There were loud cries all aboard the deck when two large claws rammed into the ships deck and pulled the ship lower and Sgileas managed to hold on to the railing when Zhaitan crushed the canons with a swing of one of its arms.

The ship was shacking and trembling and Zhaitan pulled itself upward, the ship could not hold its weight and would surely fall soon. They had gone too close, should have stayed further back, should have -

Zhaitans angry eyes seemed to bore through him and it gave a loud scream. Determination rushed through Sgileas and he gripped his sword tightly.

  
  


"Zhaitan launched itself onto  _The Glory of Tyria!”_ , the man reported.

“How far away are the other ships?”, Trahearne asked.

“Too far. Their weapons are not yet in range. They are -”, the man cut himself off and his eyes grew wide and Trahearne frowned, rose from the chair and moved toward where the man was sitting. The man looked pale, eyes grown wide and he clutched the headset that rested over his ears tightly with one hand. 

“What is it?”, Trahearne demanded to know and the man lifted his head and pulled one earpiece from his ear, and now Trahearne could hear it too. There was arguing on the other side, a voice yelling and he realized it was Caithe.

“ _No!”,_ she screamed. _“There has to be another way - “_

“ _This is my calling!”,_ Sgileas screamed at her, and there was the sound of Caithe huffing as if pushed back. _“I will not let it tear any more lives into its grasp. I have to do this.”_

“ _Commander!”,_ she yelled, there was a louder, audible gasp and then the voice of Zojja from the console when she shrieked, the sound of metal screeching and then slowly, all sounds faded until only the faint cry of Zhaitan could be heard, growing more and more distant, and even here the vibrations could barely be felt any longer until suddenly the ground trembled with an earth-shattering shudder, the magic and soul of Orr breathed open and Trahearne felt the magic inherent in the land release when finally Zhaitan was no more.

But the silence in the chamber remained and he stared at the earpiece and grabbed it from the mans fingers. “What happened?”, he asked into the microphone. “Caithe, what happened?”

There was rustling on the other side and then, ever so slowly, Caithe answered, her voice broken, “ _He..._ ”, she took a deep breath.  _“He jumped. He fell with Zhaitan.”_

Trahearne stared at the console in front of him, his brain refused to work. Something seemed to drag his chest down, a heavy weight on his heart that threatened to pull him to his knees. “Where is he?”, Trahearne asked breathlessly.

“ _I lost sight of him.”_ , Caithe answered. _“I...am so sorry, Trahearne.”_

Trahearne sunk against the table beside him, felt the eyes on him, waiting, questioning, anticipating. “Sent a searching party.”, Trahearne all but whispered, and the people around him immediately did as he asked, even though Trahearne knew that whatever they found...it would never be enough.

It sunk into him, grasping him from inside, the unbearable and merciless cold, clutching at his heart and filling him with ice. He stared ahead and when the others began to cheer around him because of Zhaitan's death his ears were deaf and his eyes blind.

All that he could focus on was the hole in his chest that swallowed him greedily and entirely and he rose to his feet, stared blankly at the panels of blinking lights, tried to discern what they meant, even though just a second ago he had known. Just a second ago he had been the Marshal and now...

Now, he was lost.

  
  


Sgileas blinked his eyes open, found himself surrounded by white. It was all very confusing and he breathed in, felt a sharp pain in his chest protesting at the movement of his lungs and his breath grew shallow.

He stared up at what had to be the sky, wondered why it was layered in white, and a helpful part of his brain supplied that it was spiderwebs.

Slowly he rose into a sitting position, his head aching with a searing pulse and he brushed with hand over the back of his head, felt the hot sap under his fingers and a wound covering the back of his head.

The headache thrummed like a thousand drums and as he gazed around he recognized the land, but only barely. It was Orr, somewhere inside the city of Arah, but he could not remember how he got here, what had brought him here...and what he was doing.

When he gazed around he saw shreds of spiderwebs all around him, corpses of spiders piling upon the floor. They must have thought him easy prey when unconscious and his Shroud must have torn them apart. He thanked whatever had granted him this instinctive power and he slowly rose to his feet, his legs shacking at the effort and his head dizzy.

Arah. Orr. Why was he here? He was fighting someone...something. Did he come here to fight the spiders? No, not truly. There was something else, something larger, something more powerful...

He couldn't remember. It frustrated him. The memories slipped from his grasp like palms full of water.

The sky was turning darker, shade for shade, and he would have to find shelter. If this was Orr, if this was truly Arah, then he was in grave danger. Slowly he limped forward, exploring and seeking answers.

  
  


“Why?”, Trahearne demanded sharply.

“We have been unable to break the spells and mechanisms of the gates into Arah.”, the priory member explained. “Until now nothing has worked to open them. There seems to be an ancient magic at work that we have not figured out yet.”, but she quickly added when Trahearne cast her a sharp glance, “but we will. We have the very best working on it.”

Caithe watched Trahearne with a sympathetic glance. After Zhaitan's defeat the great victory had all but passed by the firstborn in his grief – grief he did not yet truly allow. He clung to a hope that Caithe did not understand.

She remembered it, how she had stood upon the deck of the ship and fought with her fear and the instinct to survive, and when Zhaitan's eyes had pierced her she had shrunken back – and Sgileas had risen to his feet.

He had brushed past her, so determined, so indomitable that she had only barely grasped his arm. _“What are you doing?”_ , she had demanded.

“ _It will pull us to our deaths.”,_ Sgileas had growled and had tried to rip his arm free impatiently.

“ _And what do you intend to do?”,_ she snapped, but all the anger had drained from her when she had seen Sgileas eyes. Full of determination. Full of a purpose that made him so much greater than she, where she cowered faced with her destiny. _“You can't!”_ , she had protested. _“You will die!”_

“ _Then I will die!”,_ Sgileas yelled at her. 

“ _No!”,_ she had screamed. _“There has to be another way - “_

“ _This is my calling!”,_ Sgileas had screamed back at her and he had shoved he hard enough to make her stumble backwards. _“I will not let it tear any more lives into its grasp. I have to do this.”_

“ _Commander!”,_ she had tried to stop him, she really had, but he had dashed off with his sword drawn, his Shroud enveloping him and he had run toward the dragon with a cry, lifted his scythe in the air and jumped toward Zhaitan where it still clung onto the ship.

The scythe had come descending down atop Zhaitan's forehead, sunken deep into the rotten and corrupted flesh and a spark had blown free, had blown the ship away with its force and the air had ignited with sparks.

For a brief second she had lost her balance once more and once she had reached the railing,  _The Glory of Tyria_ had been drifting away from the massive blast, she had only seen the dark shadow of Zhaitan falling toward the ground beneath – and no sight of Sgileas anywhere. 

Even if the blast of energy had not killed Sgileas, the fall certainly had. Even if they found what was left of him somewhere in Arah beneath, surely that would be no consolation for the firstborn.

“We need to canvas Arah.”, Trahearne said. “All our efforts should be concentrated on that.”

The Pact Commanders nodded and left, and Caithe slowly stood beside Trahearne. His eyes looked sunken in, the gleam in them only a mirage of certainty: It actually was a bitter, clutching grasp on one last strand of hope that he had – and without it it almost looked like he might fall apart.

“Brother.”, she said, her voice soft and yielding. He turned his head toward her, and what was worst was that he did not blame her at all, that he blamed no one at all but himself. She had told him how she had failed, and even in his grief he had not found it in himself to blame her. Instead he had eased her bad conscience, had reconciled before the need had truly arisen. “I understand why you search so fervently, but...” After her failure she did not be the one to tear him open. “He is gone. Perhaps we should return to Mother. She must already know, but your presence there might ease her grief, and hers might ease yours.”

“I can not leave now.”, Trahearne murmured. “If they find him...”, he took a deep breath, “I need to know. The uncertainty will hurt worse than the truth.”

She averted her eyes, could not bear to see the pain. It reminded her so much of her own, even though she had the one thing: Her love was alive, even if twisted beyond recognition, mad beyond saving. When she raised her hand to rest it upon his shoulder he accepted it, and she once more marveled at the strength he had, that he did not lash out at her.

Their loved ones were gone, forever, and nothing could bring them back. No words of consolation, no time passed by that erased the pain and left only a dull ache. It was part of them now, and it hurt her as much as him – because if only she had acted instead, Trahearne would have grieved, their mother would have grieved, and yet, the Pact would not be broken at the tip.

The two lovers leading the Pact into battle against an unimaginable foe into an unlikely victory – only to be torn apart in the end.

Trahearne's eyes were empty. He did not cry, but he did bend and break, deep inside, while the outside showed the emptiness that lay within. It was all she could do to offer him the comfort of her touch and perhaps her presence, but she was not sure it would reach him.

Once they had found what remained of Sgileas Trahearne would have to move on, to let reality sink in and accept the Pale Mother's guidance. But until then she would soothe him and support him wherever she could – even against the tides.

  
  


Days had passed by. How many Sgileas did not know, he had lost count after three, had not bothered to. He lived off from Omnomberries and Ghostpeppers and other plants that grew here, even found a patch of Asparagus once that had been a great delight to him.

The strength had slowly flooded back in and his days were spend wandering through the broken city of Arah, exploring everything far and wide as far as it would go. Risen had remained behind in these closed quarters and he had slain all that he had seen – and now everything was eerily quiet.

He drank water from a purified well, could feel the pulse of magic in it resonating on his skin and remembered only faintly that it had something to do with him. The past few days the memories had slowly come flashing back, glimpses and cuts and pictures, and he as he glanced down at his reflection in the well he could see another sylvari staring back at him with sad, yellow and empty eyes.

When he reached out and his palm touched the surface the water rippled and distorted the image and it was gone, just like the memory. It lay right there, at the tip of his tongue, and yet he could not remember.

He wandered the city for so long until his feet ached, until he knew every crevice and door and passage, until he knew exactly how far he could and could not go. The city was built with high reaching walls that he could not climb. The stone was smooth, and even the few cracks that racked through it gave him no leverage.

He had found devices and scripts of old, worn tomes that were almost unreadable at this point, pages and parchment torn by the sand and time. But even then he had managed to learn, one especially handy spell to open the doors.

The doors were either shut by a mechanism that could be opened from one side and the other, or magically. He had learned that much from experimenting and had, of course, freed Risen in the process, but only briefly. They had been easily defeated and he had carried on until the darkness rose around him, brought dark looming shadows over the city that made it impossible to see. He would sleep on the floor in a distant chamber then, the sleep very uneasy and rattled awake by even the softest gust of air rushing through the city.

Today there remained only one chamber. The one chamber he had so far not dared to cross because a magic lurked behind that oozed through the door, an evil and turpitude that Sgileas had never felt to such an extend.

He had collected all the essences that he could, had grown all the power he could possibly gain, had skimmed through the scrolls he had found to uncover just what creature lay behind this door – and had found no answer.

When the stone creaked open he expected just about anything. A dark swarm that would swallow him whole, a plague called upon him by a powerful lich that had remained behind, perhaps even the Vizier of Orr risen from his grave.

What awaited him however was something slightly more unnerving, and even more disturbing. With a disquiet feeling he took in the wide area, round, covered in dirt and sand. There was not a single footprint to be seen anywhere, and nobody had to have been here in forever.

The dust rose around his feet as he moved forward and he heard the buzzing of flies, saw a lump of flesh hurdled in one corner, a swarm of flies rising over it. A stench rose in the air and Sgileas had to hold back the urge to throw up. It smelled rotten, and the air was dripping with the dark magic here, but he could see no sign of an enemy, except for the lump of flesh that rested in the corner.

With a cautious glance he made his way toward the large door and gazed over its border, tried to discern how to open it when he heard something shift behind him.

He turned his head and his heart stilled when he watched the lump of flesh slowly rise, only to realize that it was no lump at all. It was a Giant. A giant that was not swarmed by flies, but controlled the swarm.

It rose to its feet agonizingly slow and Sgileas watched with wide, terrified eyes when the creature towered almost as high as the walls – only to glance down at him with dark, squinted eyes.

His breath was stuck in his throat when he realized what he was staring at. The creature mustered him before it moved with thundering steps.

_Giganticus Lupicus._

  
  


“Yeah, I can feel it too.”, the priory human female mumbled and soothed the goosebumps that had risen over her arms.

“Is that normal?”, the charr asked and stared at a couple of small pebbles on the ground that lifted ever so slowly whenever the earth trembled anew beneath their feet.

“Well, not normal, no.”, the woman said. “But it's been going on for hours now. We have no idea which part of the city it is – and what it is.”

“Did we activate something?”, an asura asked. “Could be we started some ancient mechanism beneath the city.”

“Better not think about churning, spinning wheels beneath my feet.”, the charr grumbled.

“Yeah, but what about the magic in the air? I can _taste_ it on my tongue. It tastes rotten.”

“Like biting into a Risen's throat.”, the charr agreed, and nobody deigned to ask how the charr knew what that tasted like. Judging from his large and sharp talons it might have happened on one occasion or the other.

“Oh.”, the asura made. “It stopped.”

There was a small second in which the sound paused and then, a loud shuddering crash, the ground shook and then it was quiet once more.

The human woman jumped in surprise and held the staff I her hand hard enough to draw the bone of her hands sharply against her skin. Her eyes were wide and she glanced around. “What was that?”

One more moment of silence passed by before the norn that had been quiet all this time shrugged. “Let's go check it out. The squad's ready to move out and scout.”

“I don't want to die.”, the human female whined.

“Then don't.”, the charr dead-panned. “Now get a move on, Arah won't explore itself.”

They stumbled over the areas, through the thick sand and dust, the Risen around these areas only scarce in population. Most of them had been killed in their recent assault, and now it was more like cleaning up.

They moved forward for days, eyeing every crevice with anticipation. Spiders fell from above, Grubs rose from the ground and Risen came from every crevice if one was not careful. It was only after a room filled with a great many tar oozes, a very angry abomination and even more Risen that they finally reached a point of significance.

The asura's device was beeping wildly and she gestured forward. “There, ahead.”, the asura pointed. Ahead was a slope that lead down toward a large stone door that rose high and thick into the sky, with Risen covering the passage down below. Beneath all the sand and dust one could imagine that a pair of stairs had once lead down toward the next room, but it was all left to the imagination now.

“Yeah. I can feel it.”, the human woman murmured, her affinity to the elements making her tangible for the powers in the air. The clash of powerful forces was sharp and pungent, but what had made them and how powerful they were was beyond what she could judge.

The way down was cleared and soon they stood in front of the large door and behind it she could feel the power oozing through, evil and dark and she gulped. “Something's lurking behind this door.”, she almost whispered as the asura tried to figure out how to open the damned thing.

“Well, it was sealed for a reason.”, the Charr grumbled.

“Yeah.”, the asura agreed. “It can only be opened from our side. Whatever is inside there was trapped there. For quite a long time, I might add. It just might be dead.”

The female human placed her hand upon the door and shrunk back when she noticed how cold the door was. “It's not right.”, she murmured.

“Stop being so angsty about everything.”, the norn grumbled. “You've done nothing but complain about the magic ever since we started this expedition.”

“I am telling you-”, the woman started, but the asura interrupted her,

“Ah, got it.”

Everyone went tense when the stone ached and moved open slowly, revealing at a tortuously slow pace what lay ahead. A large round room was visible and in the very middle was a cloud of smoke and darkness that rose from nothing – until they say a figure sitting cross-legged in between the shadows.

They all stilled when purple eyes opened beneath the Shroud and Sgileas slowly rose to his feet, the massive body of Giganticus Lupicus lying dead behind him, the swarm of flies festering on the creatures skin.

The female human dropped her staff, the norn his jaw, and the charr was at a loss for words. The only one capable of speech was the asura, and she too was inhibited by the discovery,

“C-C...Commander?”, she stuttered, and behind her the other Pact members approached, trying to discern what the commotion was about.

“Pact?”, Sgileas asked and stepped closer, the shadows oozing back into his skin.

“Yeah.”, the asura gulped. “We...we came to canvas Arah and to look for your body...”

Sgileas frowned. “I've been trying to open this door for days.”, he grumbled and his eyes gazed over the carvings.

“It could only be opened from our side.”, the human answered.

Sgileas smiled. “It is good you came along then. Thank you. Now, if you would be so kind to escort me back?”

“Of course.”, the human nodded eagerly and fumbled with her robe, quickly collected her staff. When Sgileas joined them she found it stifling to walk beside him, the power so very overwhelming it nearly made her eyes water. If he all but looked at her she was certain she might faint.

But he was alive, and even though they asked how he had done it he did not answer – his eyes were set on a destination ahead, his mind elsewhere, and somehow she knew what lay on his mind and soon they no longer pestered him with any questions. There was something more important at stake than knowledge; the heart and well-being of another.

  
  


Trahearne felt aged beyond his years. A feeling that was strange considering he was the oldest of his race, that he was the first, and yet he was tired and exhausted and so very tattered that he barely had any strength left to stand and argue.

Caithe lay in his ear all day and night – all day because she was with him, everywhere, and at night when he wandered the courtyard because nightmares rattled him from his uneasy sleep.

He would dream of Sgileas running off and jumping into darkness, and his hand reaching out uselessly to stop him, only to have him slip from his grasp.

It was a nightmare like that that had woken him once more and brought him to sit in the Command Center instead with the other Commanders who all understood the grief – and somehow took it upon themselves to ease it with their presence and distracting topics.

It had been two weeks now. Two agonizing weeks and Trahearne felt as though it would only get worse from here. Slowly the idea that Sgileas was no longer alive had festered in his head and a small voice asked him to simply accept the harsh truth – lest his hopes swallow him whole.

“The repairs have come a long way.”, Wynne informed him. “We are receiving support from all over Tyria and reinforcements are arriving ever day. We have new Recruits and Veterans that will surely give us the edge once a new Elder Dragon arises.”

A new Elder Dragon. There were many more, and many would demand sacrifices such as Forgal's, Tegwen's and Sgileas'.

He had once thought he could redefine himself, but all that he was was a figure-head. He felt like little had actually remained of him. Perhaps he ought to visit the Pale Tree and grief. Holding out on it was only boring a sharp piece of glass into his heart.

There was the rush of approaching footsteps below, trampling over the metal of the stairs and a red-headed scout appeared with wide eyes. He gulped and heaved a breath, so much so that even Doern looked concerned.

“What is it?”, he asked and the scout gasped.

“It's...the team. The team from...Arah.”, the Scouts breath hitched. “They found him, they -”

The gate to Fort Trinity opened before the scout could finish and all their eyes were trained on the gate in the distance where figures appeared, so very small in the distance, but the figure in the middle was unmistakeable.

Dark, teal skin, a glow of purple on his pattern, the ferns gleaming in the night.

Trahearne stood rooted with wide eyes, his brain had ceased to function and his heart felt a multitude of things: It jumped and spiked and shattered, all at the same time, over and over, until he heard his own feet moving over the metal stair and descended toward the ground, saw that the eyes were watching him from a distance.

A hush fell over the courtyard and Sgileas moved forward and broke into a run, and Trahearne did the same until they met and embraced each other in a bone breaking embrace, a sound like a sob escaping Trahearne's throat when he leaned against Sgileas neck.

The younger sylvari pulled him closer, breathed in the scent that had lingered in his nose all this time, the warmth of the firstborn in his arms and sighed. “I've missed you.”, he whispered and Trahearne clutched at his back.

“I thought you were-”, Trahearne's voice broke, he could not speak, not when relief flooded him like this. Sgileas was alive, alive in his arms -

“I'm not.”, Sgileas soothed and drew gentle patterns on Trahearne's back. “I'm not. I made it. I told you I would.”

Trahearne held on, and with each passing moment it became truth, with each moment his heart regained new strength and he relaxed his hold slightly but refused to let go.

Caithe watched with wide eyes from the Command center, her hand clutching the railing until it paled. A bitter taste rose in her mouth when she realized that she had all but given up on Sgileas, that she had given Trahearne a taste of her own hopelessness because she had thought it was the most rational thing to do. She had been wrong, once more, and she had inflicted pain where none had been necessary.

They all stood and admired that fate had not torn the two lovers leading the Pact apart as they held one another after being parted for so long, and by a hairs breath for forever. Even Tyria itself seemed to ease a breath of relief, both at the death of Zhaitan and that the two heroes had not been parted.

They held onto one another, held on for their lives because alone their hearts were glass, but together they were stone.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sighs contently* Ah, well. Thank you for reading and bearing through this with me. I hope you did not think I would kill Sgileas off, did you? No, I could never do that. Same with Trahearne. Which is I won't continue this series into Heart of Throns and Mordremoth. That would just break my heart.  
> Now then, I hope you enjoyed yourselves! I sure did :D Thanks again so much for my wonderful readers and those that left a comment every bit of the way. Your support has been a great inspiration :-)  
> Lessthanthree, ~S


	17. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wohoo! The last of the last, finally! I thought there is no point in not posting it now, especially since it's only the transition for what would come after Zhaitan : LS1, but the series ends here.  
> This one is short and sweet - sometimes even that can be endearing (considering that my chapters are usually so.(thorns!).long. (Yup, I'll never swear normally again with all the sylvari stuff in my head, hah.)  
> ENJOY

“You never told me what happened in Arah.”, Trahearne said and looked up from his pile of papers, turned his head to glance at Sgileas who had made himself comfortable on the bed with a book in hand.

Zhaitan's defeat was now a couple of weeks back, if Sgileas could be bothered to actually count he would count five and a half, so something over one month. Ever since then the work that had piled up for Trahearne had caught up with the sylvari, and the both of them had enjoyed the tranquility and solemnity of their relationship in its entirety with no dragon threatening to tear apart everything.

Sgileas looked up from the page he was reading and raised an eyebrow. “There is not that much to say, I am afraid.”, he murmured.

“I've only read the reports of the scouting party.”, Trahearne shrugged.

Sgileas sat up and thought about the incidents back then. “When Zhaitan attacked  _The Glory of Tyria_ I saw my opportunity and attacked it – I remembered falling and nothing after that until I woke up. I think I must have fallen into a spider-nest, because there were spiderwebs and spider-corpses all around me, but I really do not know how I survived. I must have hit my head, too, because I couldn't remember for a few days, so I distracted myself by exploring Arah and finding a better food source. Turned out omnomberries was the best I got.”, Sgileas chuckled. Trahearne had turned toward him fully and was listening intently. “After a few days slivers of my memory returned and I found this Giant,  _Giganticus Lupicus_ , in the chambers. It attacked me and...well, I don't remember ever having a fight like that in my life. Even felling Zhaitan was easy in comparison. It wasn't easy, but I eventually won. It felt like days, but it was only hours. Well,  _only_ .” He chuckled. “When I absorbed the giants essence my memory returned and I concentrated all my efforts into opening that door – until the Pact came along. Turned out it could not even be opened from my side.”

“I heard that various researchers that are eager to visit Arah are asking for your assistance.”, Trahearne smiled and Sgileas grumbled.

“Well, yeah. I know the place upside down. Doesn't mean I want to return.”

“I am sure there is hardly a threat remaining in Arah, not when the Pact and you have done their part. We have only very few accounts of Risen remaining all over Orr – a fact that I am proud off.”

“You can be.”, Sgileas smiled. “The Pact has come a long way from “We'll never make it” to “Let's take on the next one.” “

Trahearne nodded with a smile. “Yes, you are right. But as you well know there are still some secrets in Arah that remain unraveled, secrets about the Mursaat, the Forgotten and even Jotun. Perhaps we even find and old ancient library.” Trahearne's eyes sparkled at the idea.

“You want me to go to Arah.”, Sgileas surmised with a sigh.

“I don't want you to.”, Trahearne corrected. “If I could I would have you here with me for the rest of our days – but as we both very well know there is nobody more capable and experienced with 'Risen annihilation' as you are, which leaves me in the predicament that I can send nobody else that would qualify enough.”

“I'll go, just to find that library for you.”, Sgileas grinned.

Trahearne chuckled and lifted a piece of parchment and began to read, his eyes turning worried and his eyebrows furrowing. Sgileas saw and stood up, looked over Trahearne's shoulder. “What is it?”

“During our fight with Zhaitan it appears a new island has been discovered – Southson Cove. Some operation there upset the local wildlife and forced a species called the Karka to attack Lion's Arch. I have received lots of requests to aid them – naturally I refused.”

“Surely the Lionguard can deal with whatever these Karka are.”, Sgileas grumbled. “Are they aware we were fighting an Elder Dragon? Some people seem to have been completely oblivious.”

“I agree with you – and they managed to fight them back. But there are certain occurrences transpiring that involve a sylvari by the name of Scarlet Briar, or perhaps as we know her, Ceara.”

“The second-born?”, Sgileas asked and Trahearne nodded.

“Apparently she is involved in a great deal of turmoil surrounding the Jubilee in Divinity's Reach, as well as other Operations such as the forging of Alliance between Flame Legion and Dredge – The Molten Alliance. They are terrorizing various places, especially the lands to the North. So far I have insisted that the Pact's focus must be the Elder Dragon's, that we can not split off to solve every problem, but perhaps I am misjudging this.”

“And what makes you believe that?”

“Ceare was always...special.”, Trahearne said with a hint of reluctance. “Intelligent, ruthless, and entirely egocentric. She refused the Pale Tree's guidance after she awakened and sought her own path, traveling and acquiring new skills. Last I had heard she was kicked form the asuran Colleague of Dynamics. It is greatly disquieting that she would suddenly set out against the world like this.”

“Still, simply because a second-born has gone wild does not mean we should involve the Pact.”, Sgileas argued. “After all, the Pact was formed to fight Elder Dragons. If we tried solving every single problem that exists in this world, we would never get to finish. We must focus on determining what other Elder Dragons are out there, what their strength are, their weaknesses, and where they will most likely rise and strike.”

Trahearne nodded thoughtfully. “We will make a few enemies with that attitude, but I agree.” Even though the firstborn agreed, he looked lost in thought still.

“I could go and have a look into this matter.”, Sgileas offered. “After I helped those researchers in Arah I'll head out to Lion's Arch and see what the commotion is about. That way we have an operative of the Pact directly involved and nobody will start pointing fingers.”

Trahearne sighed. “As much as I hate to admit it, I have thought the same, and I must say that it would be for the best. If there is more to Scarlet's madness then we must be prepared.”

Sgileas nodded and swung his legs over the side of the bed. “Then I had better prepare for those researchers. After I am done in Arah I will briefly come to Fort Trinity and board ship to Lion's Arch.”

“You will be very busy – and gone for a long time.”

“You will manage without me.”, Sgileas smiled. “As soon as you have need of me let me know.”

“I will never not have need for you.”, Trahearne smiled and Sgileas chuckled, stood and made his way over to where Trahearne was sitting, folded his hands in the firstborns neck and leaned down to kiss him. Trahearne met him halfway with a sigh and his hand rose to grasp Sgileas shoulder, fingers clenching into the robe.

When they broke apart Sgileas was smiling. “I will be back soon.”

Trahearne nodded with a smile. “I am counting on it.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holla! Alright, you've done it. You have read it all. It has been a onderful experience and an even greater journey for me - and I hope it was for you too. Thank you so much for reading and being here - and if you feel like it, leave a kudo/comment. It makes me happy whenever you guys do :D  
> Lessthannthree, ~S


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